


Stall Me (Break Me In)

by Gothbull



Series: Tangled Webs [1]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, High School, Romance, teenage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothbull/pseuds/Gothbull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 2004. Elisa is an eighteen year old senior in high school. She's very outgoing and keeps her friends close to her; however, she, like many others, still has a dark past. When a new boy shows up in her art class, she welcomes him warmly, and a bond begins to form, causing her small group of friends to get larger. The stronger the friendship grows, the more emotionally taxing it is to remain friends. The irrationality of teenage love takes over everyone, but how far over the edge will it push these young men and women?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Trio, United

I took a look up at the clock, centered perfectly above Mrs. Wimble's white board. The final bell would ring in fifteen minutes, signaling all students to get the hell off campus and bother someone else for the rest of the day. Marisol leaned closer to me and whispered, "Can you give me a ride home?"

"No, I will not give my best friend a ride home. What're you, stupid?" I glared at her. However, she knew I'd drive her across the states if she needed me to, and she grinned. "Yeah, I'll take you," I laughed quietly.

"Quiet!" Mrs. Wimble demanded. I gazed up at her. She looked like a very unhappy woman about ninety percent of the time, but there had been a few fun times in her class. She was typically very stern and didn't appreciate a little joking around, but sometimes she surprised us. Sometimes she came into class with her white, curly hair down and her tan, wrinkled face turned up into a smile. She often got me in trouble a lot, but she was still my favorite teacher. "Class, once you finish you're assignments, please place them on my desk and then remain quietly in your seats until you are dismissed."

Our end assignment was always to write a report on whatever we read that day. It seemed a little juvenile to me to assign seniors to summarize a couple chapters of a book or an article in a newspaper, but I guess I couldn't complain that she was giving us an easy thing to work on before we leave.

Once I reached the very bottom of my page, I decided I had written enough. I lifted my aching hand to find the silver-gray residue from my graphite pencil had smeared all over my skin. I flipped the page and quickly ended the report with a couple of bullshit conclusion sentences. Maybe I should have complained about how easy it was. It didn't make me want to try hard to make an effort.

I took one more glance at the clock. Three minutes. I quietly sauntered to Mrs. Wimble's neat desk and place the paper on the corner with the rest. She didn't look up at me from her thick book. I wondered if she was really reading it or if she was just sitting there with it to make us assume she wasn't not paying attention. Once I'm seated behind my desk again, I look over to see Marisol scribbling furiously. She liked to take her time with her thoughts, but that can be a problem when she's only given twenty minutes to do so.

I feel a tug from the back of my head. I twist my torso to find Rudy's eyes boring into me with several strands of my dull-gold hair between his fingers. Rudy was so attractive. Especially with his dark, dark brown eyes piercing me. Some girls were turned off by his acne scars on his cheeks or his very strange sense of humor, but I enjoyed those things. They made him even more different than anyone else.

"Do you think I could get a ride from you?" he grins at me with his imperfect teeth. I wouldn't mind giving him a ride...

"Ms. Monè!" My heart stopped as I heard everyone's chairs creak so they could turn to look at me. "Would you like to stay after class and help me grade your fellow classmates' papers?"

I twisted back into the proper position before answering, "No, thank you."

"Then I suggest you sit straight in your seat until I allow you to leave." It was a command, not a suggestion. I folded my arms and stared down at the scratched-up desk. A few seconds later, the bell chimed loudly, startling me. "You all are dismissed."

I spun wildly around to glare at Rudy. "You couldn't wait literally thirty seconds to ask me for a ride?" I demanded. He shrugged, innocently.

I avoided eye contact with Mrs. W as Rudy, Marisol and I filed out of the room. "She seriously wants to cut off my head and use it as a hood ornament," I groaned. Rudy chuckled.

"Probably, but she won't because you're the best writer in the class," Marisol commented. "So what are you doing tonight?"

I adjusted the strap of my messenger bag on my shoulder and thought about any plans. "Nothing, I guess. What about you two?"

"The boys and I are jammin' tonight," Rudy reminded me, and I began to think of Alex. We hadn't seen each other in a while.

"Homework," Marisol said, nonchalantly.

"You're going to do homework all night?" I questioned. "I'm really curious to know what you would do with yourself if homework didn't exist." She laughed and tripped over a crack in the cement. Rudy and I both reached out for her, but she caught herself. She mumbled a coy "thanks" as she blushed. I knew it was more for Rudy than me.

Once we reached my truck, Rudy opened the suicide doors and offered the front seat to Marisol. She giggled quietly, mumbling another shy "thanks" as I rolled my eyes. I put all my might into turning the key and my poor truck groaned loudly to life.

"You really need a new car," Marisol stated.

"I know," I sighed. "I just don't have the money right now. And I think I'm a little attached." I pat the dashboard softly.

"You're so weird," she laughed. There wasn't much talking during the car ride. My two friends simply let my CD play. Rudy was the first to be dropped off. I rolled to a stop in front of his neat, white house, and Marisol opened her door to let him out.

"See you tomorrow, man." Rudy made a fist and held it out to me and our knuckles lightly clashed. Fist bumps weren't really my thing, or Rudy's, but it was more of a joke between us than anything. He put his hand lightly on Marisol's shoulder.

"See ya!" he exclaimed before slamming the door. Marisol pulled her door closed and look straight out the windshield. I looked past her to make sure Rudy wasn't locked out of his house, and once he was inside, I accelerated.

After a couple moments of silence, I couldn't help it. I had to tease her.

"Soo..." I started. "Are you okay? Did he breathe his beautiful breath too hard on you or something?"

"Shut up, Lisa!" she blew up. I burst out laughing. "He's just so gorgeous," she pouted.

"So tell him that instead of me!" I insisted. "You're so in love with him, yet you seriously go out of your way to not interact with him more than a few minutes."

"You don't understand, dude."

She was right about that. I didn't understand why she did that. I'd probably never been quite so in love like she was. Not at least that I could remember.

"He's just like-ugh! And then he looks at me and I can't even talk, like my tongue forgets what it's supposed to do!" she rambled on and on before I noticed her looking at me out of the corner of my eye. "How am I supposed to tell him anything when he does all those things to me? He doesn't even try, and I can't even function!"

"I don't know, babe. I would say..just keep hanging out with him so you can finally get to that point of comfort. And once you do, if you still feel the same way for him, make a move. I'm sure he'll appreciate it," I winked at her.

"I'm too flustered to talk about this right now," she growled, folding her arms and staring out the passenger side window. I smiled and continued driving.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she stated as she hopped out of my truck, her beautiful brown hair bouncing after her. I nodded as she gathered her things. She slammed the door and I watched her storm up to her house and disappear inside it.

* * *

 

"What took you so long to get home?" My mom asked suspiciously as I strode through the door.

"I took Rudy and Marisol home," I answered, stepping up to the refrigerator.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," she sighed. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a bottle of water. "The less driving, the better."

"Says the woman who commutes almost an hour to and from work every day," my nose crinkled as I realized I was being harsh. She _was_ my mother. Most of the time, it just didn't feel like it.

"I just think it's better if you come straight home so I know you're okay," she demanded.

"Something you can't figure out by calling me?" I retorted. I was being a smart-ass, but I was getting offended that she was telling me this. She couldn't keep blaming me for what happened in the past.

"Nevermind, Elisa," she sighed again and walked into the living room. She obviously didn't want to fight about it, which I was more than appreciative to agree. I made my way up the stairs and pushed my bedroom door open.

I groaned as I let my bag fall off my shoulder and let my body fall on my bed. The second week of school is starting off nicely, I thought to myself. It was true. I'd grown accustomed to the typical ups and downs of the teenage life. I knew when things were going good, and I knew when they were really bad. So far, nothing bad had happened yet. Sure, it wouldn't last, but I could still appreciate how it was right then.

As I let those thoughts continue in my head, I began to fall asleep. I didn't know when it was that I finally dozed off, but I awoke at nine at night. My water bottle was in my hand still, but it was no longer cold. I felt around for my phone and found it stuffed in my pocket. As it lit up, I found three missed calls from Marisol and two text messages.

> _Marisol: Some family just moved in across the street. Who are these ppl?!?_
> 
> _Marisol: Theres a boy. He looks hott! ;3_

I snorted and rolled over.

> _Me: lol don't tell Rudy. he might get a little over protective!_

I let my body stretch before standing up to turn on my light. My messenger bag was laying in the center of the floor, so I decided to plop down with it. I began digging through the papers I'd received from teachers at school and tried sorting them out between papers that didn't matter, papers which needed to be signed by parents, and homework.

My phone buzzed twice to inform me of a received text message. Once I laid down the last paper, I reached up and pulled my phone down from my bed.

> _Marisol: How dare you bring that up?! ): seriously though. You should come over. My dad is going to a conference in D.C. and I'm scurrd_

Of course she'd want me to spend the night. She always did whenever her was away, and he usually went on those conferences every three months or so.

I pushed myself off my carpet and tried to quietly open my door, but once I heard the channels changing on the television downstairs, I knew I don't have to be silent. I leaned on the hand railing all the way down the stairs, and made my way to my mom. She was sitting on the couch with her eyes lazily glued to the TV screen.

"Hey mom?" I got her attention.

"Hmm?" She looked me. "What is it?"

"Marisol's dad went on another conference. Do you care if I go over and stay with her tonight?"

"I don't mind. I have work in a few hours anyways," she answered softly. "Just be careful driving at this time of night."

"I know. Oh, but he might be gone a few days, so she'll probably want me to keep staying over there," I stifled a yawn.

"That's fine. Just let me know, and don't forget your house keys in case you need to come back. My hours are a little funky this week."

"Sure thing! Thanks," I called as I ran up the stairs. Once I returned to my room, I hastily put a bag of clothes together with anything I might need. I decided to just pack enough for one night. I could always come back to get more. I stuffed all my school papers back in my bag and grabbed my phone.

> _Me: on my way_

I was suddenly very excited to be out of the house, and I glided down the stairs and out the door with a quick "Bye mom!" I climbed into my truck and pat the dashboard as I turned the key. She revved and revved before finally starting up.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, kissing the steering wheel. When I got to Marisol's house, she proceeded to talk me to sleep about the new folks next door. I didn't realize I was still tired, and I wasn't sure when I stopped listening to her babble, but I had a very good night of sleep.


	2. Hello

"Lisa! Wake up!" Marisol was shaking me.

"I don't wanna," I whined.

"Come on, we over slept. We have an hour to get to school." She ignored my cries.

"Fine, fine," I muttered. I rolled over and looked at the clock on her white nightstand. 7:05 am. I yawned and stretched and even considered dropping out of high school before I finally got up. I grabbed my bag of clothes and laid a black, long sleeve shirt and dark denim pants out on the bed.

"Are you really going to keep your 'all dark clothing' tradition this year?" Marisol asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Tradition? Is that what you're calling it?"

"I'm just saying, you could really stand to wear some color more often," she stated, turning to her closet. I brushed off her comments and strode quickly into her bathroom for a shower. I pulled my hair up into a bun while the water warmed up. My muscles felt a lot better under the water pressure and I almost couldn't bring myself to get out and finish getting ready.

"Don't take up all my hot water!" Marisol demanded. I shut off the water, dried myself off, and walked into the bedroom in a white towel.

"Your turn," I tagged her shoulder.

Marisol ignored me and pulled something from her closet. "You should wear this." She held up a dress against her body, showing it off to me. It was an orange, long, flowy strapless dress, to which I immediately shook my head.

"Orange is pushing it," I said while fake gagging.

"Whatever, emo," she grumbled. We both got ready quickly and jumped into the truck. "Why do you wear so much black around your eyes?"

"How long have we been friends, dude? Why do you judge me so much?" I retorted, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Don't be so sensitive, Lisa," she sighed. "By the way, I did your homework."

"What? Why?" I asked.

"You fell asleep, and I assumed you just didn't do it, so, you know," she trailed off.

"Well, as much I as appreciate it, you could have just woke me up again, babe." 

"I knew I'd get it done faster than you would have," she smiled boastfully. She was probably right.

We made it to school with five minutes to spare, so we took our time walking. We talked about things that didn't really matter until Rudy met up with us. All of a sudden, my chatterbox girlfriend was on mute. Rudy proceeded to tell us about how his practice with his band went last night while Marisol stared at the floor.

"That reminds me," Rudy continued. "Here. These are the fliers for a gig we're playing in a few weeks. I'd- We'd really like it if you guys could come and..support us." His hand hesitated to release the flier he was handing to Marisol, causing her to peer up at him. I had to smile when their eyes met because I could tell it was doing things to Marisol and I could see that was what Rudy intended.

"We'd love to, Rudy," I answered for the both of us. He looked at me like he forgot I was there.

"Yeah? That's great." He flashed Marisol a final smile before rushing off to his first class.

Marisol was dazed as we walked to Mr. Kemp's art room. "You alright, lovebird?" I finally asked.

"My heart exploded," she murmured.

"Aw." I pulled her into my arms, smiling. But my grin faded as I felt her crying. "What's wrong? I thought this would be a positive moment."

She sniffles, "It is, but I am just so in love with him that it hurts me so bad."

"Oh, babe," I tried to calm her. As the bell rang for everyone to get to class, she composed herself and I helped her wipe her makeup clean.

As we entered Mr. Kemp's classroom, he told us to take our seats wherever we wanted, but warned us the seating arrangements could be reworked to his liking if we misbehaved. Marisol and I took our seats in the very back, facing the front of the room, and two boys took the seats across from us.

The boy who sat across from Marisol was a kid I'd known since the fifth grade named Kevin Bowman. We weren't the best of friends, or the most compatible, but we could get along okay. But I didn't recognize the boy who sat across from me. His brown hair was long and covered most of his forehead, and he seemed very shy because he stared at the table without even glancing at the rest of us. As a senior, I felt it necessary to assume the task of welcoming new students to the school. I was about to introduce myself, but Mr. Kemp began talking.

"So, today, I want to see what kind of portraits you all can do," Kemp began. "It can be a self portrait, it can be of your mom, it can be of your favorite author, it can be of the person sitting right in front of you, it can even be of your favorite teacher in the whole school." He pointed to his own face, and students giggled. "And I don't want to hear about how you can't draw faces. I just want to see what you can come up with. So begin!"

Marisol started drawing a large oval, Kevin was doodling stick figures, and the boy across from me had his arm covering most of his paper.

I rested my head on my hand and sighed," I don't know who to draw."

"Your mom," Marisol responded.

"You know, I honestly can't tell if you're making a douchey joke or if you're seriously suggesting I draw my mother," I chuckled. "I could draw you and Rudy," I rubbed my shoulder against hers.

"You could shut the hell up, Monè," she growled, slapping my arm. I laughed into my hand and stared down at my paper. I wasn't sure where to start. I decided to just procrastinate. I looked up at the new boy.

"Hey," I quietly got his attention. He peered up at me with wide, brown eyes. "Didn't mean to startle you," I smiled. "I just wanted to introduce myself since I haven't seen you around before." His eyes became less terrified-looking, and he slowly set his pencil down.

"I just moved here," he murmured. He was quite shy. I felt the need to get him to chill out.

"Is that what I'm going to call you or do you have a real name?" I grinned. The corners of his lips turned up but his face turned down. I knew it was a silly joke, but he still reacted positively to it.

He leaned his head back up and gave me a sweet smile. "Brendon. My name's Brendon."

I extended my arm over the table, "Elisa. My friends call me Lisa." He gently accepted my hand, but shook it firmly. "It's nice to meet you, Brendon."

"You too," he released my hand and picked up his pencil again.

"Do you mind if I ask who you're drawing?" I looked curiously towards his paper.

Brendon cleared his throat, "Frank Sinatra."

"Oh, wow." I commented, "I would have never thought of that. Do you mind if I see?" Brendon froze like I had just caught him red handed. I realized how forward and nosy I was being and felt bad. "Sorry, I'm overstepping some boundaries. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." I cleared my own throat as well and looked down at my own paper, which was still blank.

I didn't try to coax anymore conversation out of Brendon the rest of the period. I just focused on drawing a face. I never decided on a specific person, but a face is a face, so it wasn't important. Eventually I let my eyes wander to Marisol's paper. "Why are you drawing a potato with eyes?"

"It's a self portrait."

I cupped my hands over my mouth to keep my burst of laughter from filling the whole room, and I noticed Brendon stifle some of his own enjoyment.

"Alright, class. We've got a couple minutes left in the period. Would anyone like to share?" Mr. Kemp offered. Less than a handful of kids showed off their pictures, and no one else would raise their hands when Mr. Kemp asked to see more. "Alright, you guys can socialize quietly until you're dismissed. Before you leave my room, please place your pictures in a neat pile on my desk."

The room was suddenly filled with loud whispers and low laughter.

"Do you know when your dad is coming back?" I asked Marisol. She folded her paper in half twice and let it sit on the table.

"What's today?"

"Tuesday," I answered.

"I don't remember. Maybe Saturday?" She said, unsure. "It's a long trip this time."

"Wow, he really was okay with leaving you home for that long?" I was shocked. Two days was usually the limit with him. He was so protective over Marisol.

"No, he wanted to take me with him, but I convinced him to let me stay."

"How?" I rested my head in m hands again.

"I told him you would take care of me," she laughed.

I snorted. "'Take care of you.' Well, I'm flattered he trusts me so much. Haven't killed you yet, so..."

"Speaking of which, what are we doing tonight?" She began doodling on the small square of paper she had available to her. "I'm so done with being stuck in that house."

"We could go out to eat. See a movie. I don't know. Lets figure it out when we get home." I yawned. I was so tired, but I didn't really know why. I slept as soon as I got home and then as soon as I got to Marisol's.

The bell rang for everyone to go to their next period. Everyone gathered their belongings and shuffled to Mr. Kemp's desk with their papers. I noticed Brendon was a few students ahead of Marisol and me. I wondered if we could catch up with him in the halls.

"So, I didn't want to say it when he was sitting right there, but that Brendon kid is the hot guy who moved in across the street," she winked at me. "And you are checking him out a lot." She giggled at me.

"Oh please," I rolled my eyes at her.

"Oh please nothin'. I know what I was seeing there," she insisted. "You never get nervous about anything, but all of a sudden, Mr. Precious Eyes and Pouty Lips comes into the room and you get shifty eyed and you fumble over your words."

"Holy shit, Marisol, could you be talking any louder?!" I whispered furiously.

"What was that Ms. Monè?" Mr. Kemp asked, clearly hearing every word I said. Once again, every student turned to look at me.

"Uh, I said 'smell my pits, Marisol, I think I should be taking a shower.'" What? That was the best thing I could come up with?

Kemp shook his head, but let us be excused. I understood that was my freebie for the rest of the year. Once we finally escaped into the hallway I looked around over the heads of many students to see if I could find the long, brown hair again.

"Lemme guess who you're looking for," Marisol started.

"Actually I was looking for Rudy so you could tell him you love him."

"What about Rudy?" He seemed to always know when to come along in the conversation. I laughed out loud as Marisol blushed and look at me angrily.

"There he is!" I exclaimed, my eyes finally landing on him.

"Who?" Rudy asked. I pointed Brendon out to him.

"His name is Brendon. He's new. I'm just going to see if he needs any help," I stated, leaving the two of them to be together alone for once. I made my way through the crowds of students to find him staring at a paper in his bands and glancing around the room. "Hey, Brendon," I greeted him.

"Oh, hi. Lisa, right?"

"That's right," I smiled. "You look a little lost, and I was wondering if maybe you needed some help." He looked at the small shred of paper in his hand and explained to me that he didn't know where his locker was. I was happy to help out, and lead him to where he needed to be. In fact, I did that all throughout the day.

I walked him to his classes and met up with him afterwards to help him figure out where he was going next. He seemed to become a little less nervous with me every time we met up, which I was very happy about. I didn't want him to be afraid of me because I was so forward and so out there. By the end of the day, he actually seemed to welcome it.

Rudy and Marisol welcomed him into our area for lunch as well. Marisol of course would be just watching me watch him the whole time, but Rudy is probably even more forward than I am. If Brendon was put off by me at first, he must've been completely terrified of Rudy.

"So, how'd you like your first day here, man?" Rudy asked him.

"It was good, " Brendon commented. "Especially since I had people to experience it with. It probably would not have gone so smoothly without you three." Rudy gave him a rough pat on the back, and I just smiled at him, making Marisol smile at me. Brendon smiled back, making my cheeks get a little hot.

Marisol cleared her throat very loudly. "Well, we should get going," she said, trying to rush me to the car.

"Will you chill out,"I demanded. "There's no rush." She pouted. "So, Brendon, do you need, like, uh, a ride or anything?" He smiled gratefully at but declined my offer. Feeling like I had wasted enough of his time, I began to say goodbye to him.

"Wait," he insisted. "Do you think it would be okay if I got your number?" I tried to quietly take a smooth, deep breath, but it was shaky. 

"Sure, that's fine," I shrugged, playing it off as coolly as I could. He let out a single soft chuckle as he pulled out his phone, no doubt in response to my horrible acting. Once we swapped numbers, we said goodbye and the three of us left him standing there with his phone in his hand. It was a fairly silent walk, but once we were in the truck, Marisol blew up.

"Oh my gosh, Lisa!" She exclaimed. "You like him! And he asked for your number!" She was way to excited about this.

"He asked for my number probably because I'm the first person who tried to be his friend," I tried calming her down. "You're reading way too much into all of this."

"I don't think I am. I know you, and I know what you usually do when you like a guy, but this is different," she smiled and went on about how it's sweet and romantic as she gazed in awe out the window.

"I have to agree," Rudy chimed.

"Rudy, shut up. Don't help her," I pleaded as we pulled up in front of his house. He simply laughed as he got out and he gave us a little wave before he shut the door behind him.

Marisol sighed, and started to look really sad as we watched him walk to his house. "What?" I asked.

"He's just really handsome," she moped.

"Geez, Marisol, could you be any more upset about the fact that you like a very attractive young man and he likes you too?" I demanded, driving away from Rudy's house.

"You think he likes me?" Her eyes seemed to light up with her hopes.

"I suppose I can't be sure, but I'm confident he does," I smiled sideways at her, and we continued our drive in silence.


	3. Crush

Marisol was sifting through her makeup bag, trying to find her eyeliner. She was starting to growl and began throwing stuff.

"Just use mine," I urged her.

"All your stuff is black, Lisa!" She whined. "Ugh!"

"You're such a baby." We were getting ready to go out to eat at Denny's because it was the only thing we could all decide on. Rudy welcomed the invitation, making Marisol smile.

"You know," she started slowly, "You did get that Brendon kid's number right?" I looked sideways at her. "And, since Rudy is coming, I might just want to try and talk to him most of the time." I sighed, and continued applying my eyeshadow. "Which would make you a third wheel, and it would be awkward, don't you think?"

"Jesus, Marisol, just say it! You don't have to dance around it like an obnoxious asshole!" I snapped.

"You should invite Brendon," she said putting her hands up like she was surrendering.

"You don't think he'd want more time to get comfortable in his new home before he gets dragged out by three kids he just met?"

"C'mon! He looks like he's got a little adventure in him," she winked. 

"Now you just sound ridiculous," I muttered.

"The best part is that he lives right across the street," she bumped shoulders with me.

I tried my best to ignore her as I applied my lip liner, but she was bouncing and shaking me and pleading me to call Brendon. "Why do you want me to invite him so badly? Are you in love with him now? Rudy will be sad about that."

"Nooo," she smiled, "I want you to invite him because yoouu liike hiim!" She was poking me until I slapped her hand away. "You know you want to see those shy little puppy dog eyes again."

"Okay, so I think he's attractive, but that doesn't mean I like him," I rolled my eyes.

"You think Rudy is attractive! You think this boy is gorgeous," she giggled. Ugh. She wouldn't just let it go. After about ten more minutes of having Marisol beg and plead and insist on calling Brendon, I finally caved.

"Fine! Good god, woman!" I yelled, storming out of the bathroom. I pulled my phone out of my pocket as I walked to the living room. I could have walked across the street to talk to him, but I thought I'd be less forward. Maybe he wouldn't even answer. I was sure he'd be busy unpacking or settling in or something. I scrolled through the names in my contacts and found his name.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-

"Hello." He didn't questioningly greet me. It was almost like be expected me to call.

"Oh, hi, Brendon," I laughed nervously, "Uh, I didn't think you'd actually answer."

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked.

"I just thought you'd be busy or something."

"So, why did you call me, Lisa?" I blushed when he said my name. "Not that I'm unhappy about it," he laughed.

"Oh, right, uhm. Well, Marisol and Rudy and I are going to dinner at Denny's tonight, and we were just wondering if you'd like to join us?" I felt so stupid. Marisol was right when she said I never fumble over my words.

"Oh, really, you'd like me to come?" He asked sincerely.

"Yeah, of course, Bren," I smiled. He gave a low hum, like he was smiling.

"I'd be happy to join," he agreed. I told him where the restaurant was and he said he'd meet us there in thirty minutes. I dashed back into the bathroom to finish my makeup and hair. Marisol was already done.

"So I assume by your haste, Brendon is coming with us?" She smiled boastfully.

"Yes, now make yourself useful and fix my hair!"

\-------

"Do I look okay?" Marisol held her hands out to give me a better look at her. Her shiny brown hair was curled loosely and her white flowy dress rested perfectly and delicately in an hourglass shape against her mocha skin. She looked beautiful. Of course, if I had said that, she would have argued with me about how ugly she was, so I just gave her a thumbs up. "Okay," she took a deep breath, "I'll go get him." I stayed in the truck and watched her nervously trip in her white heels to get to Rudy's door.

She knocked and began fussing needlessly with her hair. She gave her soft dress a quick pat down her thighs before light began creeping from behind the door. Rudy stepped out and closed the big red door behind him. He wore dark denim pants and a white dress shirt. Of course it was untucked, but neither of us even expected him to wear anything more than a band tee.

I watched them interact for a few seconds and Rudy touched Marisol's perfect hair, no doubt telling her how amazing she looked. She glanced at their shoes, probably blushing, before he lead her to the truck with his hand on her back. I couldn't help but smile.

"Lookin' good, man," I told Rudy as he climbed into the back seat.

"Ah, I knew you two would be dressin' up, so I thought I'd try it out. Gotta say," he gives himself a look over, "Not too shabby." I chuckled as we started on our way to the restaurant. "So Brendon's coming with us?"

"Yeah, he's meeting us there," I answered. I quickly glanced down at my black dress. I guess it looked okay. If I was going to a funeral. I just knew he'd think I was a freak. It's not like black pumps or black makeup made it seem any better. Marisol told me to wear the brightest red lipstick I had just to contrast it. Maybe he'd like that.

"I think he'll like you're outfit," Marisol assured me. Of course she knew what I was thinking. I don't know. I wasn't too concerned with getting him to like it or like me. I didn't really even like him like that. I had a crush on him like you have crush on that guy who always manages to be your waiter at a restaurant. Nothing was expected or demanded, but I felt the need to impress him.

We pulled into the parking lot and I found a space for my rickety truck. We all got out and began making our way to the building, our fancy shoes clicking the whole way. Then I noticed him. Brendon was sitting on a bench under a lamppost. He had on blue jeans, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket. I adjusted my thin choker and my long black gloves, and felt so overdressed and embarrassed.

Brendon noticed us and immediately stood up to greet us, "Hey guys."

"Hi, Brendon," I responded. "We didn't keep you waiting very long, did we?" I noticed I was bending my fingers together awkwardly and made them sit at my sides.

"No, not at all," he assured us. "Unfortunately my dress up clothes are in a box somewhere, so I did what I could. You look great," he kept his eyes on me, but became slightly nervous and looked at the other two, "You all do."

We escaped the awkwardness of the outside conversations when Rudy suggested we go in and grub. We were welcomed by a short man with green eyes who grabbed our menus and took us to our booth. I expected Marisol and I would sit next to each other, but Rudy offered the seat next to him to her. Of course she accepted it. So I scooted in the other side and Brendon did the same. I glanced up and flashed him a smile before looking down at the table. Why was I so uncomfortable? I pulled my gloves tighter.

"This is going to be fun!" Marisol exclaimed. "It's already so good to be out of the house." I tucked my straightened hair behind my ear. "So what are we thinking to eat?"

We all opened our menus and began searching. Once we all made our decisions, we began talking. After spending time with Brendon today, I already learned he was very musically inclined. He told me he could sing and play guitar and he was working on the drums, but there was a whole other list of instruments he could play. I was very impressed by that résumé. He told me he really wanted to put together a band. I encouraged him even though I never heard any of his talent for myself. I learned quite a bit about him.

"So you are really into the color black, huh?" He asked me. I bit my lip.

"A little bit," I admitted. I realized I was playing with the hem of my dress and I made myself stop. "Maybe too much."

"Hey, if that's what you like," he trailed off, grinning. He seemed slightly different from earlier that day. Like, he was a hundred times more confident. I didn't expect it to be so fast for him to get comfortable.

"Uhm, so do you like it here so far?" I asked. I had to be confident too. I couldn't just be all nervous and shifty-eyed all the time. That's not who I am anymore.

"Yeah, it's great," he responded. "People here are really nice." Marisol and I shared a glance that said "yeah, because you're new and cute." Brendon and Rudy seemed not to notice.

"Hi, everybody. Welcome to Denny's." I looked up and realized our waiter was a boy named Thomas. He was in my Economics class. He recognized me as well. "Oh. Hi, Lisa. Rudy." Rudy responded in a nod. "M-sol." He lightly pushed on her shoulder with his fist, smiling.

"Hey, Tommy," she greeted. "When did you start working here?"

"A few weeks ago," he replied. "I was surprised they finally called me in. I didn't get word from anywhere else I applied for."

"I haven't gotten any call backs from anywhere," I commented. "Good job. You're application must've said something they liked."

"Yeah, I got lucky." He sighed. "Anyways, are you guys ready?" We all ordered and waited for our food to be prepared.

"I didn't mean anything rude about you wearing black a lot, by the way," Brendon whispered to me while Rudy and Marisol were having their own conversation. "I was just making an observation. I think it looks good on you." He smiled sweetly.

"Oh. Thanks, I wasn't really offended though. Marisol just makes fun of me about it a lot, so whenever it's mentioned, I just expect some kind of let down," I adjusted the way I was sitting. I felt slightly more confident without Rudy and Marisol listening.

"Well, I won't do that. Trust me," he insisted coolly. When he put it that way with his soft eyes sending me a little wink, I was inclined to believe anything he had to say. "Anyways. You've heard all about me today. Tell me about yourself."

"Aside from my favorite color?" I asked.

"I think I could figure that out on my own," he chuckled. He rested his head against his hand and watched me, waiting for more information.

"Okay," I breathed. "Stuff about me. Let's see. I like writing. I guess I'm a little bit creative like you, but I prefer to do things that don't require hardly any skill. It's easy to write words together to fill up a certain amount of pages, but my fingers would be too stupid to remember how to hold a drum stick." I earned a laugh from him and his pretty eyes. "Mm. I, uh, am still living at home. I mean, I'm an adult now; I could leave if I wanted to, but I'd rather save up more money first before going out on my own, you know?" He nodded. "I'd really like to be an author or something. I just like writing things down. Things that matter to me." I sighed and bit my lip. "I don't know. There's not a lot to me."

"I think there's a lot to anybody. It's just not easy for them to talk about or even notice," he told me. It made sense to me.  
Our drinks came first. I took a huge gulp from my drink. I couldn't believe how annoyingly nervous I was. I was doing good at hiding it, I think, but it was bothering me. Soon, our side conversations turned into group conversations, and it was easier to talk. Rudy started talking music with Brendon and while Marisol and I listened. I don't think either of us would've had anything to really contribute apart from what bands we were into. Rudy seemed to enjoy having another guy in our group. I mean, of course he loves us girls and we love him, but we must become annoying at some point. There's only so much whispering and giggling a man can take, I assume.

Thomas returned with our food, and we were all excited to dig in. As we ate, we talked and joked around, and Brendon looked like he was having a good time laughing with us. Even after our meals were completed, we stayed an hour longer.  
When our energy in the booth began to die down a bit, I went to grab my bill. I felt a warm hand get in the way of mine and looked up at Brendon. "Let me get it for you," he insisted.

"Bren, you don't have to do that. I have money," I told him.

He yanked the pad from my fingers and smiled. "You've been so nice to me all day, letting me hang out with you guys, and actually talking to me. Just let me make it up to you tonight," he urged me with his sweet eyes.

I laughed softly. "Okay, it's your choice," I caved. I felt uncomfortable letting him pay. It's not like I thought it would happen, so I didn't think to try and get something cheap. But he paid it casually and didn't seem to mind at all. I was grateful, but felt bad at the same.

We walked out of the restaurant and stood by the door, saying our goodbyes. Rudy held out his hand to Brendon, "See you tomorrow, man." Bren accepted it, and gave Marisol a small wave. She smiled to him and gave me a look as she and Rudy started walking back to my truck.

"So did you need like a ride, or anything?" I asked him, pushing my hands into my pockets.

"Oh, no. It looks like you've got a feild trip on your hands already," he grinned. "Anyways, I drove myself," he explained.

"Alright then." I was running out of things to say. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Bren." His smile widened and he chuckled softly. 

"What?" I asked, not getting the joke.

"It's nothing," he murmured. "I was just thinking." He took a step back. "Goodnight, Lisa." He spun and walked the opposite direction of where I needed to go. I watched him walk for a few seconds as I touched my face and felt how hot it was. I finally exhaled and clicked my heels back to my truck, smiling. I had fun.

"I am stuffed!" Marisol whined, holding her stomach like she knew she was pregnant. "This was a good time though."

"Yeah, I'm glad we did this," Rudy commented. M.arisol blushed. Maybe she was finally starting to see the way Rudy looked at her all the time. Only took two years.


	4. The Quick Tease

I woke up before Marisol did. I rolled over and glared at her clock. 5:00am. The bed was trying to be persuasive as I stretched and lifted myself from it. I needed to get clothes from my house since I forgot to last night. It was still pretty dark, so I felt around for my jeans and one of Marisol's jackets. I very carefully grabbed my keys and my wallet before sneaking out of the house. I don't know why I bothered to be super quiet; my truck would be sure to wake her up. As I walked out the door, I looked at the light gray, two story house across the street. I wondered if Brendon was awake. If he wasn't, he was about to be. I tried taking off as fast as I could so people didn't have to listen to the horrible grinding noises for very long.

As I made the groggy drive to my house, I thought about the night before. It was a lot of fun. Brendon was a super nice kid, and he knew how to get comfortable. I was glad I introduced myself to him. After we got passed the awkwardness, he seemed to appreciate it. I was honestly surprised nobody had tried talking to him the moment he got on campus. Maybe not the guys, but all the girls who are constantly on the search for a cute boy to flirt with. Brendon wasn't bad lookin' at all.

I laughed as I thought of Brendon surrounded by thirty girls in the courtyard. I imagined him just sitting there being entirely too uncomfortable, not knowing how to react to so many fluttering eyelashes and hands on the hips. Maybe it wouldn't happen quite to that extreme, but I knew he'd be getting offers at some point. I wondered who he might pick. I still didn't know him quite that well, so I couldn't come up with a girl who I thought would be a good counterpart. Maybe she'd just walk up to him one day, and it would click, and be so obvious. My thoughts were interrupted by my truck making a very scary noise, and suddenly smoke was slithering out from under the hood.

"No, no, _no_!!" I yelled, hitting the steering wheel. My gas pedal stopped working, so I pulled over and came to a stop. I assessed where I was and memorized the nearest cross streets. Fucking piece of junk, I cursed at the smoking pile of scrap metal. I was lucky to get only a couple walking minutes away from my house. Maybe mom could take me and Marisol to school today, and help me figure out the truck.

I grabbed my wallet and anything else I felt I didn't want stolen, and locked my truck. I could push it, but it was close enough that I just wanted to run to the house and see if my mom was there first. I jogged home, and sighed in relief as I saw my mom's car in front. I quickly unlocked the door and lightly stepped up the stairs to my mom's room. I knocked.

"Elisa?" she asked. I pushed the door open and found her sitting on her bed, reading. "What are you doing here? I didn't even hear your truck."

"It finally broke down on me," I sighed. "I came over to get more clothes."

"Oh no. Well, I don't have work for another three hours," she commented. "We can go take a look at it. Maybe it's something simple."

"I doubt it," I said. "It was smoking and it was making the worst sounds, but we can." She pulled on a sweater and some slippers before making the walk with me.

 

\-------

Mom had no idea what to do with the truck, and I didn't expect her to. We just decided to push it into the driveway until I could take it somewhere. She agreed to take me and Marisol to school, but it would have to be early since she had a forty-five minute drive to the next town over for work. I gave Rudy a call, telling him about my truck. Rudy lived very close to school, so it wasn't a problem for him. I always offered to give him a ride just because he was one of my best friends and it was convenient for him.

"That's fine, man. I can walk it," he laughed softly. "See you there." I called Marisol and woke her up. She answered groggily. After I explained what happened, and when we would have to be at school, she screamed. I was sure to be receiving complaints about how I didn't give her enough time to get ready.

"We should leave in an hour," my mom told me, walking by my door with curlers in her hair. I had taken a swift shower and decided I didn't have time to do anything really nice with my hair, except braid it. The cold, loose braids sat heavily on my naked shoulders. I kept my towel wrapped around me as I scanned my closet.

Once I was dressed, I began applying my makeup, but my mom was rushing me. I wasn't anywhere near done, so I threw all my stuff in a bag, and grabbed a handheld mirror. I was willing to bet Marisol wasn't ready either. I slipped on some flats and adjusted my bangs before walking out of my room. My mom was waiting at the car. I locked the house door behind me, and speed walked to the car.

"Marisol, are you ready?" I asked, pounding on the front door.

"No!" she whined. She opened the door. Half her hair was curled,and she had on leggings and a tank top. " _Do I look like I'm ready to leave the house right now?_ " she asked me, upset.

"If we leave right now, I'll get to work exactly on time!" Mom shouts from the running car.

"Lisa?" I heard someone call to me. I spun around and saw Brendon across the street, wearing a gray v-neck and black sweat pants. His long hair was messy and his eyes were still sleepy. "What's going on?" he asked. I retold the story of my truck and how we had to leave early because of my mom's work. "Oh. Well, I could take you guys so you don't have to go so early," he offered.

"And who are you?" Mom asked. He introduced himself and I explained that he was a friend. She agreed to let him drive us to school, thanked him, and sped off.

" _You have another hour to get ready, Marisol!_ " I called over my shoulder to her as I walked over to Brendon. I heard the door slam.

"Hey there," Bren smiled, sleepily.

I giggled softly, "Good morning! You look terrible."

"Ah, I feel it," he admitted, running his fingers through his hair. "You look.. _good_."

"Yeah, I'm more of a morning person than I'd like to be."

"Well, I'm not, so I better go wake myself up. I'm not convinced this is real life," he chuckled.

I shrugged, "Maybe it's not."

"Mm, so then if this is a dream, _I can do and say whatever I want without any real consequences_ ," he smirked. I felt like his eyes were pinning me against a wall. They were suddenly very strong, and powerful-seeming. I think for the first time in my life, I was speechless. He laughed and rubbed his eyes, "I'll see you in an hour, Lis." He turned and walked back into his house.

As dumb as it sounds, I stood there for a second. _Wait...am_ I _dreaming?_ I thought to myself. I looked around the street. Everything seemed normal. Typically, in dreams, your locations are familiar but there are obvious differences. Everything looked right. I wasn't dreaming.

So, Brendon's just a kidder. I could deal with that, but that was intense. How was he able to do that with his eyes? One second they were soft, tired, and simple. Then all of a sudden, they were hot and looked like they wanted to do crazy things. To me.  
My face felt hot. I pivoted on one foot and walked briskly back into the house.


	5. Apart, Together

"You look dazed," Marisol commented, delicately applying liquid liner on the edge of her eyelid. I took a look at myself in the mirror and realized my eyes were wide and red. I quickly blinked and tried to set them at ease.

"I'm just tired, and mad about my truck," I sighed.

"Well, the guy you bought it from didn't take care of it," she stated. "Of course it was bound to fall apart."

I quickly finished my own makeup, and packed my small bag back up. "I'm just going to lay down until we leave," I muttered, leaving the bathroom and venturing to Marisol's couch. Once I felt the soft cushions holding me off the ground, I decided I didn't want to leave them. I closed my eyes. Brendon's eyes showed themselves to me in my thoughts. It was just a joke, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Well, at some point I did stop thinking about it because I fell asleep.

\-------

I woke up to knocking. My stomach grumbled to the shocking awakening. There was more knocking, and I fought gravity to get up.

"Lisa?" I heard Marisol call.

"I'll get it! Are you ready?"

"Zipping up my boots!"

I wiped under my eyes to make sure there were no makeup smudges before opening the door. My eyes fell upon Brendon with his hands in his pockets. The sun beamed down over him, but his smile was even brighter. "Are you ready for another day of learning?" he greeted me.

"Sure," I sighed. "Unless I fall asleep before we get there."

"I'll keep you up," he laughed as I welcomed him into the house. "Marisol ready?"

"Probably not," I muttered. "Let me go speed her up. You can make yourself comfortable," I offered.

"Sure," he replied.

I pushed Marisol's door open and found her quickly brushing her fingers through her hair. Her eye narrowed at me in the mirror.

"Time to go," I tell her.

"Okay, okay," she sighed, grabbing her bag.

Once we climbed into Brendon's really nice BMW, we began talking about the night before. "I had a good time," he assured us.

"Us too," Marisol replied. He looked sideways at me and I smiled agreeably.

"So what are you planning to do about your truck?" He asked me.

"I don't know," I groaned. "I don't have to money to get a new one , but I don't think I have enough to get it fixed either. I've been putting off taking it in to get looked at because I've known it's in bad shape." I rubbed my forehead. "My mom says she'll let me use her car when our schedules don't clash. At least, there's that."

"As much as I don't mind giving you a ride," he grinned," I certainly hope you can get it worked out."

When we got to school, Rudy was sitting on a bench just outside the gate, his fingers locked together. He seemed to be concentrating really hard on something before we interrupted him. "Hey, guys," he quickly became the normal Rudy we loved.  
I felt like he wanted to be asked about what was going on because something clearly wasn't right with him, but maybe it wasn't something he wanted to tell everyone yet. Maybe he'd tell me. I decided to wait until it was just him and me together.

We went to our first periods. Mr. Kemp spent majority of the class lecturing before telling us what our entire year assignment would be. It was an art book. He wanted us to find old books we would never read or put together our own books and fill the pages with pictures of any media. Our books had to have a title, and at least two "chapters" to signify certain chapters of our life beginning and ending. I immediately began thinking of the things I would do with this assignment.

"None of you have to present your books to me until the end of the year," he explained, "however, if you'd like my opinion on something, I'm glad to help." He gave us the rest of the period to begin brainstorming.

"Aw, man," Marisol whined. "I don't like this assignment."

"Are you kidding?" I raised my eyebrows at her. "This is the best assignment! I'm really excited to start it."

"I didn't realize you would be so crazy about art," Bren smiled. "What do you think you'll do with it?"

I thought for a second. "I'll probably put together a book on my own instead of reusing one," I stated. "I guess I have to wait for something to happen that makes me emotional before I can really begin adding pictures to it though. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm not really one for planning," he chuckled. "I'm a lot more spontaneous when it comes to stuff like this."

The class was over a lot sooner than I expected it to be, but the day was going by so slow. I was just so tired and I couldn't stand to be chipper about learning. I fell asleep momentarily in almost every class. My second to last period of the day was Chemistry, which I had alone with Rudy. I had one other class with just him, but our assigned seats were too far apart for me to talk to him.

He was, however, my lab partner.

The students were all talking amongst themselves until Mr. Stein would arrive. I took it as my chance.

"Rudy, is everything okay with you?" I asked him. He looked up at me like he forgot I was there.

"What do you mean?" He retorted. That obviously meant there was something wrong. He needed it to be coaxed out.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," I assured him. "You seem unhappy today. Something isn't right." He glared down at his desk and adjusted his bracelet.

"The band," he started. He sighed loudly smashed his eyes into his palms. "The guys are all leaving for college, so the band is breaking up." I always forgot about the age difference. Rudy was a goof, but he was also incredibly mature and intelligent, so it was more than easy for him to fit in with an older crowd. His band mates graduated high school two years ago. I was surprised they didn't go to college right away, but I knew it was inevitable. I guess Rudy was just so wrapped up in their music that he didn't want to think about the possibility.

"Rudy," I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry this had to happen, but didn't you realize they'd want to do that at some point? Alex, Dave, and Carl were all really smart guys with opportunities of scholarships."

"I know," he groaned. "I just wish we could have been in the same year so this wouldn't happen this way. I'm not ready to go to college, but when I am, they could possibly be done. What if they want to get back together at that point, but I don't have the time? They'll just get a new vocalist."

"Maybe they won't," I suggested. "Maybe they'll wait for you."

"Maybe, but that's slim," he stated, putting his head down on his desk. Well, I knew why he was so sad. Music was everything to Rudy, it was his truest source of happiness. Sure, Marisol and I would be able to cheer him up, but he'd still have that background static of that one episode of his life ending, but he'd still leave the TV on, hoping for a rerun. I couldn't think of anything more to say. I just let my hand fall to his back and began rubbing back and forth. I remembered him doing the same for me when he first met me. I was crying in the halls about something. I forget what it was about now, but it was easily soothed over with Rudy.  
He stayed on the table with my hand on his back until Mr. Stein entered the classroom. Rudy composed himself and I took my hand back. During our lab, I was able to get a few laughs out of Rudy with my inability to understand Chemistry. He usually had to carry me through the lessons, but he didn't seem to mind. Rudy explained it more simply to me anyways.

"Class is dismissed," Mr. Stein announced after the bell rang. Everyone cleaned up their areas and rushed out the door to get to their final classes.

"C'mon, lets get to English," I lead him.

"I'll meet you there," he pulled back. I smiled a goodbye at him and went on my way. Once I came in the room, Mrs. Wimble wasn't there. I sighed relief and found my seat next to Marisol.

"Hey, so, I normally wouldn't be such a blabber mouth about people, but I just thought I'd let you know, Rudy is upset about something."

"About what?" Marisol's eyebrows raised.

"Dude, I won't tell you," I urged. "I'm just saying, I think Rudy would prefer comfort from you over comfort from me."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, I mean, I can be there as the best friend, but you're a girl he cares about so much more than me," I bumped her shoulder.

"It would mean a lot to him."

"I just wouldn't know what to say," she gazed down at her fingers.

"How do yo feel about him?" I asked.

"I care about him, and I want to be there for him," she sighed.

"Tell him that."

"Hello ladies," I heard a sweet voice greet us.

"Hi, Bren," I looked up at him. His eyes were wide and happy. We all had this class together, but Brendon's seat was up in the front whereas ours were more in the middle on the right.

"So, do you guys all need rides to your houses?" He asked.

"Well, Rudy would probably just walk," I stated. "And we're going to the same house," I wiggled my finger between Marisol and me.

"Actually," Marisol burst out. "I'm going to walk with Rudy. Take my house key." She started rummaging through her bag.

" _Really_?" I asked her, smiling.

She held the house key out to me. "Well. I have to start showing him I care at some point. Better start now."

I accepted the silver key and put it in my pocket. "Well, I'm proud of you," I gave her back a firm pat. She blushed and rested her head in her hands. Brendon seemed confused.

"What are we proud of?" Rudy asked, striding towards us. I gave Brendon a quick look, and he seemed to understand to stay quiet.

"Oh nothing," I said nonchalantly. "Marisol's just growing a pair."

" _Shut up_ , Lisa." 

"A pair, huh?" Rudy examined. Marisol glared at me. I looked at Rudy. He seemed happier, but I could see he was working hard not to mope. He didn't like to be seen as weak or easily hurt about something. I smiled at him before turning to Brendon. I was about to speak, but Mrs. Wimble walked in, and Bren rushed to his seat.

\-------

"So it looks like it's just us?" I heard Brendon.

I was watching Marisol talking to Rudy. She was so nervous. And maybe it was more difficult for her to speak because Rudy wasn't his usual charming self. He was staring down at the ground with his hands in his pockets. Marisol was talking so softly that I couldn't hear her, but I know she was starting her sentences over and over and never completing them. She looked up at me. I gestured for her to continue. She just stood there for a few seconds.

"What's going on?" Brendon whispered softly in my ear.

I smiled, " Just watch. This has been waiting to happen for two years."

Marisol began reaching her hand out. She froze for a second before continuing. "I want to be there for you," I heard her tell him confidently. Her fingers found his arm, coaxing his hand from his pocket. My heart beat super fast. His head tilted back up to look at her. Her fingers slid down his skin to reach his hand, and once there, his fingers welcomed hers.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I heard Marisol tell Rudy she cared about him. I watched as they got comfortable with this new touch before walking in the direction of Rudy's house. I sighed and threw my arms around Brendon, crying harder. He seemed startled, but slid his arms around me.

"What's wrong, Lis?" He asked. He was concerned. He didn't realize I was happy.

"I'm sorry," I pulled away from him, wiping my tears away. "I'm just.. This has been taking two years to happen," I urged my hand in my two friends' direction. "They didn't realize the other person cared about them until now, and it's been really heartbreaking watching them be scared of each other." I sniffled.

"You care about them a lot," he smiled, hanging his arm comfortingly over my shoulders.

"They're my best friends," I sighed. "I just want them to be happy, and now they finally can be."

Brendon squeezed my shoulders and lead me to is car.

"I didn't mean to pounce on you," I apologized. " I just got so excited."

"Don't worry about it," he laughed, opening the passenger door for me. "I don't mind." I climbed into the seat and he shut the door. As he made his way around the front of the car, I wondered what it was that he didn't mind. He didn't mind being there for me when I got emotional? Or he didn't mind me pouncing on him? Well, he was eighteen year old boy, so I wouldn't be surprised if physical contact with an eighteen year old female wasn't going to put him off.

"So, you're just going straight to Marisol's house?" He asked.

"Yeah, I don't really have anything else to do, but homework." He nodded and began driving.

"Does she have a way of getting back?" His question suddenly reminded me that we hadn't talked about that. She just wanted to talk with Rudy, but she didn't say anything about a ride from his parents. When I told him I had no idea, told me to call him if she said she needed a ride. He was a very generous young man.

He pulled into his driveway and we both exited the shiny car. "I'll talk to you later, Elisa," he spoke softly. I felt like even if I didn't call him, he'd make it a point to make sure we spoke.

"Sure," I replied, "Brendon."

He smiled and turned towards his house. I spun quickly and made huge advancing steps to Marisol's house. My heart sped faster than I could believe. I think it was a reaction to Brendon saying my full first name. It was a sweet, silky sound, and my eardrums were shocked to hear something like my name sound so pretty.

I needed to calm down. I needed a cigarette.

I got into the house and pulled a lighter and a pack from my bag. Marisol's backyard was all dirt and no grass because her dad was always building things and working back there, so grass didn't have a lot of time to grow. I dug the heels of my shoes into the soft earth as I took a drag. I didn't smoke constantly or even out of habit. Just when there was too much time to kill or I was stressed out or something.

I didn't remember where I picked it up. Perhaps from Rudy. He smoked more often than I did. When I was done, I stamped the ember out and walked around the side of the house to dump the crushed butt into the trash can. Marisol would always tell me how much she hated it when I smoked because I smelled so bad, so I went up to take a shower.

Once again, the warm water begged me to stay and even tried lulling me to sleep, but I had to fight it. I hit off the water and pulled my hair up into a towel. My phone began chiming in the other room. I pulled a second towel around my body and hurried to my phone. I took a look at the lit up screen.

 _Brendon_.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey," he responded. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "Just laying around, I guess."

"Well, you think it'd be alright if I could come over?" I looked down at my wet body. "I was thinking we could help each other with our homework. And by 'we' I mean you and by 'each other' I mean me." I laughed.

"Sure, just give me about five minutes," I told him.

"Great," he exclaimed. "See you in five."


	6. Four on the Floor

Brendon knocked on the front door just as I was putting my damp hair in a bun. "Coming!" I called out. I adjusted my pajama pants and buttoned up my silk top. Upon opening the door I was presented with a paper pinwheel right in front of my face. "Very nice," I laughed.

"You're welcome," he smiled from behind the folded paper.

"Bren, is that your English homework?" I sighed. He simply began to cackle.

\-------

Brendon was actually very intelligent and I didn't understand why he asked for help. He seemed to have no real trouble with anything.

"So why did you _really_ come over?" I asked him suddenly.

He looked up innocently at me, "What do you mean? Is it too much to ask for help?"

"No, I course it's not," I replied. "Except you don't need help. You're doing everything on your own."

"Well," he paused. "I guess I just needed someone to kickstart me." I didn't press it any further because my phone chimed once more.

"Marisol?" I answered.

"Hey, Lisa," she greeted. "I'm uh, ready to get picked up if you think Brendon wouldn't mind."

"Sure, we'll be right there," I told her.

"She's ready?" He asked. I nodded and we forgot about the previous conversation.

\-------

"Thanks for picking me up, Brendon," Marisol murmured.

"It's not a problem," he smiled. "Any time."

I twisted around in my seat. "Are you okay? You seem..weird and quiet."

"I'm okay," she whispered, looking out the window. I left her alone for the remainder of the trip. Brendon parked in his driveway again, and followed us to the house.

"We were working on our homework and all that if you want to do the same," I said to Marisol.

"Sure," she said, pushing the house door open. "But I need to talk to you first."

"We'll be right back," I told Brendon, leaving him in the living room.

I trailed Marisol to her bedroom and she quickly slammed the door behind me and jumped on me. "Oh my gosh! Lisa! I love you so much!" she squealed.

"Woah," I pushed her slightly away from me. "I mean, you're my best friend, but like, I don't want to, you know, do things with you."

"What? No! You're disgusting, Elisa!" She shoved me. "I am so in love with Rudy! And he told me..everything."

"You mean about the band?"

"No," she whispered. "I mean about the last two years. He told me everything he thought about me and when he realized he loved and..everything!"

"Wow, that's great, Mare," I hugged her. "I'm pretty sure he hasn't even told me all that stuff."

"But wait, I have to tell you something else!" She hushed me. "He..He kissed me."

I gasped," What?" I cupped my mouth.

"Yeah!" She squealed. "We were walking and you know that big forest-y area by the book shop?" I nodded. "Well, we decided to take a walk through there, right? And at first I was kind of scared because like I don't know what's in there, but once we got far enough in, he stopped me and told me, like, it has been so hard for him to keep himself in check for the past year because that's when his feelings for me got stronger. He told me he hurt so much when he didn't have me, and he was tired of feeling that way. And he just grabbed me and... He kissed me really hard." She touched her lips. "It was like he was kissing me with all of the force it took him to keep himself from kissing me before." Tears formed in her eyes. "He stopped and I just started crying right there in from of him. He thought he hurt me or thought I didn't like it, but I couldn't talk, I was crying so hard. I just, like, hugged him for a long time. I guess he understood what I was feeling because he didn't say anything after that."

"Your first kiss, Mare," I started crying as well. "I'm so happy for you. I'm so happy it was with someone you love."

"Why would he love me?" She whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

"What?" I sniffled.

"What is there about me that's any good for him?" She whimpered. "He's an amazing, kind, generous, selfless boy, and I'm the girl who gets mad at jokes and makes you stay with me when I'm alone and isn't anywhere near as self-confident as Rudy. Or you."

I was shocked. I almost said nothing, but she needed sense knocked into her.

"You think I am at the highest peak of confidence?" She shrugged. "You think Rudy is?" She avoided my gaze. "Marisol, I can't remember anything before sophomore year! I don't know what kind of person I was and who I was best friends with or even why I was put into that situation!" She glances down at my arms. "And you think Rudy... His band mates are leaving him! He is so alone right now. You assume he is super confident because you see him through your heart, which idolizes him. You don't know what he could be going through in his head that he won't tell us." I couldn't help myself. I just got so angry. "I'm sick of you thinking you're such a piece of shit while everyone else is so great. You really think Rudy would be so in love with you if you actually were the stupid person who think you are?"

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. But you really need to cut that shit out. I just want to be happy with you because of this amazing story you just told me." Her arms were crossed and she stared down at the floor. "Dude, you had your first kiss!" I shook her. A smile started growing.

"I know," she murmured.

"Come on," told her, " Lets just go hang out for a couple hours and do our homework and call it a good day." She nodded.  
I felt bad for leaving Brendon out there by himself for so long, but he didn't show any real discomfort. Marisol brightened up quickly, and breezed through her work. Even when we were all done with our work, We talked and joked and had fun until Brendon's phone buzzed. His mother sent him a text for him to come home for dinner.

"Thanks for letting me come over," he smiled softly. "Do you two still need a ride tomorrow?"

"If you don't mind," Marisol looked at him hopefully.

"Are you kidding me?" He laughed. "I live about thirty feet from you; it's not a big deal." I wasn't sure what the plan was going to be when I got back home. I lived ten minutes further away from Marisol's house. I wished my truck hadn't broken down. "See you two in the morning," he gave a departing wave.

"He's a nice kid," Marisol commented after the door closed.

"Yeah," I murmured. "He is." She looked at me with wide eyes. I avoided her gaze as I packed up my bag and took it up to the bedroom. She did the same, but kept shooting me looks. She cleared her throat to get me to pay attention to her. "What, Marisol?!" I shouted.

" _You like him!_ " she demanded, pointing at me. "You like him a lot!"

"I've known the kid a day!" I groaned.

"But you _do_ have feelings for him!"

"They're not legitimate! I barely know him," I told her. "It's just a little crush; I'm not heels over head for him." She shook her head. "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "It's just... You two look at each other sometimes the same way I could feel myself looking at Rudy when I started having feelings for him."

"He doesn't look at me like that," I laughed. "I may have the glistening eyes sometimes, but that doesn't mean anything. It means he is a super attractive young man."

"Whatever," Marisol brushed me off. "You'll see it at some point, just like I did."

I laid down on her bed while she went to take a shower. She was making some pretty outrageous assumptions. I did admit to her that Brendon was very attractive, but I'd be surprised if I was the only one who saw it. That's why I took a little longer to look at him sometimes, but he didn't do that with me. I closed my eyes and remembered Brendon's deep, burning gaze. I remembered the weird ache it gave my muscles like they knew it was time to start moving, but he wouldn't let them. I felt trapped by his eyes until they very quickly softened and his sweet smile appeared again. I rubbed my eyes and rolled over before falling asleep.


	7. Time Passing & the Jealousy

Two months had passed and everything felt perfect. I got my truck back. I had three amazing friends who were all friends to each other, and we all seemed to get along exactly right. Brendon made friends with some kids in his music class, and he'd sometimes bring them to meet and hang out with us.

School was becoming more of a struggle for me. Anything that involves creative writing or opinionated writing was easy stuff for me, but the subjects involving math and actual memorization of formulas or facts about things that happened hundreds of years ago weren't my friends. Because of that, Brendon came over a lot more for homework and study sessions, except now, it was me asking him to come over. I don't know why I made a big deal about living slightly further away in my head. Brendon absolutely didn't mind at all, and sometimes he even brought someone else over.

Something I really liked was that Brendon branched off a bit and found other friends in his classes, and would choose to hang out with them instead of just the same group everyday. Not to say, I wanted him to go sometimes, but it was nice to know he didn't feel like he couldn't make friends with anyone else. Marisol and Rudy would sometimes go off and be by themselves, which I understood. They wanted alone time to be in love and make up for the awkwardness of the last two years.

Though, I was happy my friends were making more friends, I realized, _I_ wasn't making friends anymore. If everyone went their own ways at lunch, I would go home until the forty-five minutes were up. I didn't try to get involved with anyone else. I was great at making friends, but sometimes I just wasn't motivated enough.

On that day, everyone went their separate ways, but I stayed on campus. It was an understatement to say I got no sleep the night before. It put me in an obvious mood. Wouldn't be good for me to be around anyone. I went to Mr. Kemp's classroom, which he kept open for students to come hang out during lunch, and I decided to work on my art book.

"Lisa," Mr. Kemp greeted me. "No lunch with your friends today?"

"Well, they're all hanging out with each other or everyone else. Didn't seem like I exactly fit in today," I shrugged. "Thought I'd come work."

"Why don't you fit in?" he asked. It took me a while start thinking of an answer because I was zoning out on the floor. But even when I started thinking, I couldn't come up with a real conclusion. After a few moments, he understood, and continued, "You know, it's easy to feel like you don't fit in when you purposely seclude yourself."

He knowingly left me speechless, and strode away to talk to some other students. I only worked for about ten minutes before my phone buzzed in my pocket.

_Brendon: Hey what are you doing?_

_Me: Sitting in kemps. Whats going on?_

I picked up my pencil again and continued sketching. I typically had a very heavy hand, but I was trying to press the pencil down as light as I could. I wasn't really sure what I was drawing. I just started making lines. I noticed another figure walk into the room.  
"Mr. Urie," Kemp greeted him. I looked up. Brendon nodded to Mr. Kemp and continued walking towards me. I was sitting in the very back where my normal seat was. I expected him to sit across from me like usual, but this time he pulled the chair out next to me and placed himself in it.

"What's up?" I said, smiling, closing my book.

He shrugged, "Nothing. Why are you in here?" I shrugged. He stayed quiet for a few moments before he said, "Actually, I have something I need to talk to you about." He was nervous. What could he have to talk to me about that would make him uncomfortable? He didn't usually get this way with me.

I set my pencil down and turned my chair towards him. I clasped my hands together in my lap, and looked directly at him. "I am listening." He laughed, but was still wearing that same worrisome look on his beautiful face. He fidgeted slightly and his hands were kept busy either with each other or his clothes.

"Alright," he started. "So, I've been talking to this girl a lot lately. I'm pretty sure I'm starting to like her." It was a real struggle to keep my jaw in its place since it seemed to have an urge to fall to the floor. I knew he was talking to a handful of girls around school, but I didn't think he was, well, _talking_ to them.  "You know, I wasn't really looking, but," he smiled, "It's just kind of convenient, how life works."

"Who is she?" I asked, extremely curious. He pursed his lips, softly. "You're not going to tell me?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to her myself _first_ , see where we stand. I promise, whether she accepts me or not, I'll tell you who she is," he assured me.

"Okay, then just tell me about her," I shrugged.

"Oh, she's awesome," he began, beaming, "She's fun to be around, and talking with her is always nice. I mean, we've done more than just simple chitchat, and I think she knows more about me just from observing me than _anyone else_."

"Really?" I felt my face fall a little bit, and my voice began sounding less curious, and more disappointed. I didn't mean to be jealous, but during my little crush, I spent a lot of time watching Brendon, and learned so much. But to hear that someone else had done the same thing to woo him over...

"It's actually pretty impressive," his wide grin was almost blinding. "A lot of times, I don't even have to say anything, and she'll already know, you know?" I did know.

"Well, other than telling me about how _twitterpated_ you are," I gave him a friendly shove, "What else did you want to talk to me about?"

Brendon sighed and rested his chin against his knuckles. "I don't know. I guess i just wanted some advice on how to talk to her. I mean, in a way to get her to understand my intentions."

"What...are your intentions?" I hesitantly asked. I didn't know what I expected him to say, but I knew what I was hoping he wouldn't say. His initial response was a loud guffaw, causing Mr. Kemp and the other handful of students to sway their attention towards us. "What?" I was slightly embarrassed now.

Everyone lost their interest as Brendon lowered his voice and leaned in closer to me. "I'm not trying to jump her," he murmured, somehow reading my mind. My face got hot in just an instant. _Oh my gosh_ , I thought to myself, _Don't let him see how mortified you are._ I glared down at the table. "I've just never exactly had to start up a relationship in an innocent way before, and I really like her. I'd hate to mess it up, and she'd sure tell me if I did."

"You're just worried she'll reject you?"

"I'm worried about a couple of things, yeah," he shrugged. "She can be blunt. She'll definitely let me know if the feeling is mutual, but then she won't hesitate to tell me to go fuck myself if I accidentally overstep something."

"Overstep something?"

"Just..." he took a moment to put together the phrase he wanted. "Like, how I told you, she can just take a quick look at me, and she suddenly knows five more facts about me... I can't do that with her. It's more like, every time I steal a glance, I have five more questions about her." He could tell I wasn't understanding what the problem was. "We've been talking a lot, and she seems to really trust me. But the more I stare, the more I can tell she hides herself from me. Like, I'm not allowed to know her secrets."

"You don't want to pry, but you want her to trust you," I continued for him. He nodded in response. I took a moment to think of an answer for my friend. "I guess, just from what I've heard, and from what I know about you, she'd be insane to even think about telling you off. Let her know how you feel about her, which I know is easier said than done, but if you've made a real connection with her, then she'll probably let you down easy. _And_ if she feels the same way for you, she'll probably grow comfortable enough with you to divulge her little secrets."

He looked down at his knees. His face was still locked in worry and fright before it finally softened and a smile grew. He looked up at me. "Thanks, Elisa."

"Lunch will be over in five minutes," Mr. Kemp warned us.

\-------

"What's up with you, man?" Rudy bumped me with his elbow. I looked up at him. His forehead held the worried and confused creases I remembered seeing when he used to talk to me about how he felt about Marisol. I didn't answer at first. I took time to examine him. I felt like I hadn't seen him in so long, though I knew that was a false feeling. He started wearing his glasses over his dark eyes again. He stopped wearing them when he started the band, but I know Marisol liked him wearing them, so I figured I knew why he was wearing them again. He was also cleaning his beard up more. He usually just let it grow wherever, but trimmed it every so often. As I stared, I saw that he'd shaped it and it seemed better groomed. He looked great. He looked happy.

My skin started to hurt. What was this feeling? It crawled around my cheeks, making the air conditioning sting me. It hit the pit of my stomach and twisted until until it finally settled there, and then I recognized the feeling. Jealousy.

"Lisa?" He asked, craning his neck to have his face be centered with mine. I felt my fingers pull on my sleeves to cover my hands.

"Nothing," I finally murmured. "Just. Distracted."

"It looks like more than that," he commented. He knew me well. I couldn't convincingly deny I was definitely having my own internal problems... But I could try.

I smiled as brightly as I could to my friend, and looked down at my paper. I had none of the answers written down, and Mr. Stein began calling out for us to finish our work. He obviously wasn't going to be receiving my paper. "I'm just super tired, Rudy," I told him. That wasn't a lie. My eyelids were very heavy. I had only slept a few hours the night before. I tried to sleep in as late as possible so I could get a little bit more rest, but that meant I didn't have time to get ready. I pulled my hair into a low, side ponytail, and my face was clear of any makeup.

I had been up all night, thinking about Brendon, and denying that I was jealous.

"I'm just saying," Rudy looked at his own paper, "It's not everyday you come to school in sweatpants and the biggest sweater you own." He didn't press me further than that. We stayed quiet for the rest of the period. I wasn't in the mood for anything except sleep. I just rested my head in my hands and closed my eyes until the bell finally rang, startling me.

"Dismissed!" Mr. Stein excused us. As everyone walked up to his desk to pile their papers, I was the first one going in the direction of the door, avoiding handing in a blank sheet. I kept a slow pace through the halls; I was in no hurry to sit through another class. I did, however, end up being one of the first students to Mrs. Wimble's door. 

Before I walked in, my tired eyes strayed down the hall and fell upon Brendon. He was smiling wide as he listened to Brent Wilson speak. I couldn't see Brent's chubby face, but I did see his long, brown hair. I also noticed two girls standing in front of them. Maggie Jacks and Carla Montoya. Their perfect faces held smiles similar to Brendon's, which led me to believe Brent was telling another one of his jokes. I turned into the room as I felt my face get hot.

They were all smiling so easily. It wasn't fair.

 _You're not jealous, Lisa_. I begged myself to get over it. I kept telling myself I was in a phase. I buried my face in my crossed arms on my desk. I just wanted to sleep. As time went on, I noticed it became super quiet. I assumed Mrs. Wimble walked in, and everyone was sitting at attention; however, when I lifted my head up, the room was empty. A body shifted in the doorway, causing my eyes to flash that direction.

"Bren?" I asked.

"Hey, Lis," he responded with a little wave. "You okay?" He entered the room and sat sideways in the desk in front of mine.

"Yeah," I answered. I blinked a couple times. "Where is everybody?"

"You slept through class," he stifled his laughter. "Jake Harrison was sitting in front of you, so Mrs. Wimble never saw you." Jake was one of the football players. He was a very large boy with some major muscles. I believed it.

"Wow, I'm surprised."

"At what?" He asked, staring intently at me.

"I just didn't mean to fall asleep," I rubbed my eyes, sighing.

"I know," he murmured. "Lisa, you've been acting different. You're not just tired or distracted. This is different." My face burned, and my heart raced. "You're not as bright anymore." I felt like I wanted to shrink. I didn't want to have this conversation. "You've dulled yourself down."

"I don't think I was really that sharp to begin with," I muttered, pulling on my sleeves.

"I doubt that," he said, grabbing my hands. He pushed my sleeves up, exposing my arms. The shiny, white scars all across my skin made my heart weep. "So, you do have secrets," he whispered.

"These are so old," I urged him, "You don't understand, Bren. I'm not like that anymore."

"But you're feeling this way again." His eyes avoided me.

"I wasn't ready to tell you," I whimpered. "I trust you, Brendon. I just don't trust myself."

His fingers pulled my chin and his lips softly encased mine. My hands instinctively wrapped around his neck lightly. His free hand slipped under my jacket to touch my shoulder. His fingers stroked my skin, causing small electric shocks. It was like he was a storm and he was striking me with lightening.

He broke the kiss and breathed, "I've got more where that came from to spark you."

"MS. _MONÉ_!" I heard my name shouted. I shot upright from the desk, my heart stopped and my neck aching. "If you fall asleep in my classroom one more time, you WILL be suspended!" My eyes focused on Mrs. Wimble. She stood at the front of the room with her old wrinkled hands on her hips. I caught my breath and looked around the room. Everyone was staring at me. Jake Harrison wasn't sitting in front of me. He wasn't even in that class. He had Biology as his final class. My eyes locked with Brendon's. I only noticed his look of concern before I flashed my eyes away. I couldn't keep eye contact with him. I didn't see Marisol or Rudy, but I knew they were behind me. Marisol chose to sit next to him once they got together. Mrs. Wimble didn't mind as long as they paid attention. I looked back up at our professor. She waited expectantly.

"Understood, ma'am," I finally spoke. My voice was hoarse and startled me. She shook her head angrily and continued with her lesson. I stared blankly at the white board.

_"So you do have secrets.."_

The dream filled my thoughts, distracting me from the rest of the class. I couldn't get Brendon's voice out of my head or the fake memory of his lips on mine. Water filled the brim of my eyes, but I yelled at myself in my head. I would not cry here. I would wait until I got home. My eyes stayed glued to the white board; they weren't allowed to wander; I could feel Brendon staring at me. It was obvious he was trying to get my attention, but I just wasn't having it. Rudy and Marisol whispered behind me. I couldn't hear their conversations, but I honestly couldn't really hear anything. I concentrated so hard on focusing on the lesson that I didn't hear a word about the lesson. 

Once the bell rang, I shot up out of my seat and bolted out the door before anyone could get their things together. My messenger bag flapped against my thigh as I sped walked to my truck. I was thankful I had gotten it fixed, so I didn't have to face Brendon. I fumbled with the keys and heard someone shout my name.

"Lisa!" I ripped the door open and hastily climbed in. "Elisa, wait!" I heard before I slammed the metal door. My truck seemed to understand my urgency and it roared to life. I felt tears stream down my face as I left the parking lot. I was so embarrassed.


	8. Action...

"Your friend is here," mom peeped into my room. The lights were off and I was wrapped up in my blankets. It was a tight cocoon and I wasn't ready to butterfly.

"Tell her I'm asleep," I mumbled.

"Oh, it's not Marisol," she informed. "It's that young boy. Brandon?"

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I wanted to pull my face clean off my skull. I couldn't talk to him. There was no way I could talk to him yet. I needed time.

" _I'm asleep_ , mom." I rolled away from the door and curled up as tight as I could. She sighed and closed my door.

"I'm sorry. She's already fallen asleep," I faintly heard my mom tell him. I heard the deep hum of his voice, but I couldn't tell what he said. I cupped my ears and waited to fall asleep.

\-------

I was aware that I was dreaming. Brendon let me know. He told me he was worried this might be the only way I'd ever be able to talk to him. Of course, that was just my thought.

"Brendon this isn't real," I folded my arms. "I could say or do anything and not have to worry about any consequences because it's just a dream."

"Perhaps," he stepped closer, taking my hands again. "But I'm worried that these dreams could have consequences." He pushed my sleeves up again. "They would just be marks on your skin instead of a confrontational conversation with me."

" _You_ aren't worried about that," I yanked my arm away from him. " _I'm_ worried about that." I turned away, pacing. "I told you last time. I trust you. I don't trust myself."

"Then don't worry about trusting yourself right now. Just trust me," I felt his hands lightly stop me by grabbing my shoulders. "You're way too reserved. Maybe, just one time, you should talk to me like there won't be any consequences." I just stared at him. "Even if I'm not in the same boat with you, you will at least be in less pain. You're keeping this bottled up inside you, you're going to crack." He was right. "Trust me." I didn't want to trust him because I knew it wasn't him. It was just me disguised as him. "Sleep on it," he smiled. I closed my eyes.

\-------

I woke up very subtly. I couldn't place where sleep ended and consciousness began, but at some point, I knew I was awake. I grabbed my phone to look at the day and time, but I found I had about three thousand texts and missed calls. I assumed they were all from Marisol. I looked at the date and time. Saturday. Seven in the morning.

After I fell asleep in Mrs. Wimble's class on Tuesday, I skipped school for the rest of the week. I stayed home and slept and promised my mom I'd go back the next day. But I never did. Instead, I stayed home for three days and dreamt, like I had just done.

I knew my dreams were ridiculous. My mind was just taking my little problems and blowing them up. I understood that. I just wished they would stop. There was no point in trying to sleep if my head was just going to keep talking to myself all night. I was starting to really hate myself.

I adjusted the covers and stretched my muscles before a soft knock sounded at my door. My mom opened it and peeked inside. "You're awake," she commented. "Surprise." I rubbed my eyes. "So, I'm leaving for work right now, but I want you to get up, okay? Just go get a coffee or something. I don't care what you do. You just really need to get out of this bed."

"Okay," I answered promptly. She told me she loved me before she left. I waited as I listened to her car start up, and drive away. I had to encourage myself a lot to even sit up. Once I did that, though, the rest became a little easier. I dragged myself to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

As I went through my typical morning routines, I thought about Brendon. I felt incredibly bad. He hadn't done anything to me, and I just kept pushing him out. Why? Because of my dreams about him? What a stupid reason for anything. I began running scenarios in my head. What would happen if I tried to talk to him? Would he be forgiving like he seemed to be in my dreams, or would the reality of it be that he'd see me as a bad friend? What would I even tell him? How could I possibly explain my strange, inexcusable absence?

_"Maybe, just one time, you should talk to me like there won't be any consequences."_

My Fake Brendon's words swam through my head. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I pulled the towel off my body as I looked through my closet. My phone buzzed as I pulled out a shirt. I grabbed the cold device and stared at the name, deciding whether or not to answer. I sighed, and flipped the phone open.

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hey, Lisa," Marisol responded. Her voice was bright, but held a lot of hesitance like she didn't know how to talk to me. It was very familiar. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," I sat on my bed, "Just haven't been feeling good..."

"Hm, well..." she took a breath. "Are you doing anything this weekend?"

"I don't know yet," I sighed. "Tell you what, I'll call you up if I'm feeling up to doing something, and we'll see what you're doing. Otherwise, I'll see you on Monday?"

"Yeah, okay," she agreed. "Sounds good. Talk to you later."

"Yep, bye."

\-------

I grabbed my keys and my wallet and made my way downstairs. My stomach was flipping around and around because I continued thinking about Brendon. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to explain myself. My dream version of him was probably right. I just needed to tell him what was up, and apologize. I needed to apologize to all my friends, actually. My hand was on the doorknob, but I couldn't just leave yet.

"Come on, Lisa!" I yelled at myself. "Quit being a baby and call him!" I stomped to the couch and sat down. My shaking hands were clutching my phone, and I scrolled through my contacts. "Okay, it's going to be fine. Just ask him to meet you." I couldn't breathe as the ringing went on and on. He wasn't going to answer.

And he didn't. Maybe he didn't want to talk to me. I sat through the voicemail message, wondering what I would even say. When the beep sounded, I just started talking without any thought.

"Hey..Brendon. Uhm, this is Lisa. I, uhh...I-I just was getting ready and stuff. I didn't even think of, you know, what I was going to- uhh, probably get coffee. And I was wondering if..you wanted to come with me. Get coffee. I don't know. You probably... Okay. Well, I'm going to the shop on South. So. This is the dumbest message, I'm sorry." I hung up before I went on for another five minutes. I was shaking, and hating myself for how I was acting. Before I changed my mind, I shot myself up and rushed out the door. I kept my eyes straight and placed each footstep deliberately towards my truck.

\-------

I sat with my right leg crossed over my left.The coffee shop wasn't full, but the tables each had one or two people occupying them. My eyes wandered to the round table in the opposite corner of mine where there were seven college students squeezed around it. They were making the most noise. They had a deck of cards and were playing a game I couldn't recognize from so far away, but it was a blast for them, apparently. They were smacking the wooden table and shouting at each other and laughing.

I took a gulp of my coffee, and looked down at my arms. I purposely decided to take my jacket off, showing off my short sleeved shirt. My scars were noticeable, but they weren't as bad as they looked in my dreams. My mind was exaggerating them. I looked at my phone and I had no messages and no calls. I sighed, shoving it back in my pocket. I'd sat there for ten minutes, taking my time with my coffee, and I was getting nervous and restless.

"He's not coming," I whispered to myself. He had a life, and was probably busy. I was being silly and selfish. As I grabbed my coffee to finish it off, the small bells chimed to inform everyone the door was opening. I looked up and saw Brendon walk in. One hand ran through his shiny hair and the other was stuffed in his brown jacket pocket. He looked around the room, starting with the seven college students.

I adjusted myself straight up in my seat, and took a deep breath. His eyes fell on me, and I didn't expect a positive change in his expression, but he very surprisingly smiled. He strode confidently to my table, and I just couldn't help but be shocked. He took notice.

"What?" he asked. "You think I didn't like coffee?" He kept his sweet smile, waiting for me to say something.

"Well..no," I couldn't help but smile back.

"Speaking of which, I'm going to go order one," he pointed at the front counter. "You want a scone or a bagel or something?" I shook my head. "Be right back," he winked at me.

Once he began talking with the tall young boy behind the register, I couldn't help but ask out loud, "What the hell is he so happy about?" I finished off my coffee as he began walking back towards me. I shoved my arms under the table.

As he sat in front of me, smiling like he'd just found his long lost friend, I wondered why I had been so scared. Though it'd only been two months, he'd never shown me any sort of animosity, and was always so kind. "So, I bought a muffin, and I don't think I'll finish it, so I'm sharing." He had brought two napkins, a knife, and the biggest chocolate muffin I think I have ever seen.

"Wow," I laughed. "I think there isn't enough here for the both of us."

"What have they been feeding this thing?" he exclaimed. I laughed with him as he cut straight down the middle. I cupped my hands out as he placed my half on a napkin, and he set it in my hands. I noticed his lips purse.

"Thank you," I murmured. He responded with a light "mhmm."

After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke.

"So, Lisa," he began, "Are you okay? You've been off the face of the planet for a few days." I bit my lip as I remembered the imaginary feeling of Brendon's lips on mine, and my heart sank low as I remembered every call from him I silenced and message I never responded to. "I mean, is this something that happens every few months because I'd like to be prepared next time." He wasn't smiling as brightly, but he kept a small grin, letting me know he wasn't angered at me.

"No," I sighed. "It's not a common occurrence." I pushed my bangs out of my face, trying to think. His name was called, and he excused himself to grab his coffee, and quickly returned.

"What happened?" he murmured, leaning slightly closer. I had decided before he got there that I was going to tell him everything. I did trust him. And he'd always been so good to me. He deserved to know.

"Something you should know about me," I started, "I tend to overreact about the littlest things. Things that literally effect nobody's life, I process them in my head and I tear them apart, and I get scared. For no reason." He stared and listened intently. "I suppose just about everybody does it, but I can't help but feel so alone when I am so terrified about nothing." His eyes softened. "I guess I just figure no one will understand, so I push them away for a while."

"But what if they do understand?" he asked. "What if they want to help you?"

"I guess they'd have to really force themselves into my space when I'm in that mindset. The only thing I ever try to do when I'm like that is avoid everyone."

"But you called me today," he pointed out.

"Yes, but only you," his eyes flashed. "When I woke up, I knew I would be seeing you today because going three days without you has been terrible. I knew I couldn't take it anymore."

"Why is seeing me important?" he asked, his voice soft and coaxing.

"Okay, wait, wait," I stopped myself. "I want to tell you a few things first." He leaned back in his seat and set his hands flat on the table. "I can't remember anything before my Sophomore year." His brow furrowed in confusion. "Everything I know about who I used to be, I know from stories everyone has told me. Apparently, during my freshmen year, I got involved with a senior. I was very shy and very anxious all the time, but when I started getting intimate with this guy, he took me out with him and his friends all the time. I guess I used to sneak out and be with him constantly. I've been told that we were attached almost every second of the day." I laughed lightly as I thought about his face.

"During the summer after Freshmen year, I slipped out of the house in the middle of the night and went on a drive with... His name was Nikko. Nobody knows where we were going. I can't remember. We barely got outside of town before a semi clipped the back of his car. The car spun and hit a huge pothole in the road, and we were flipped. Numerous times." Brendon looked like he was on the edge of his seat. "I woke up three weeks later. Nobody was in the room with me. There were flowers and balloons around me, but the first thing I saw was a picture on the bedside table. I didn't know who it was. I later found out it was Nikko. He'd died instantly." I paused and noticed the tears streaming down my face. I wiped them as I continued. "I was told that I was awake when someone finally came to help us. The officer who was trying to keep me awake visited me in the hospital, though I had no idea who he was. He told me my eyes were wide and I wasn't making any sounds. I just kept looking at him." I swallowed and took a breath before I continued.

"So when I woke up in the hospital, I didn't know who I was, or where I was. I didn't know who anyone was, and I didn't know why my arms were wrapped in cloth." I laid my arms out on the table and stared at them. "When I unwrapped the cloth, I was honestly...horrified. Why were my arms cut up this way?" Brendon reached his hands out to my arms, and hesitantly touched them. "A nurse told me they were self-inflicted, and I just didn't understand. I didn't feel like I wanted to hurt. All I wanted was to stop hurting." I sighed and looked up at Brendon. His eyes and fingers were still on my arms until he realized I had become quiet. His eyes met mine.

"I was basically a new student at school, but everyone still acted like they knew me. Except for a lot of Nikko's friends. Jake Harrison was one of them. When I showed up at school, he gave me very strange looks. I didn't find out who he was until way later. Anyways, Marisol and Rudy both took it upon themselves to become friends with me. They helped me a lot. They knew me before the accident, but they told me they never really got the chance to talk to me because I was basically like a possession of Nikko's." I wasn't sure what else to say. We were both very quiet, his hands still on my arms.

"You don't still do this, right?" he asked me, looking like he didn't actually want me to answer.

"No, no," I assured him. "I don't understand the kind of person I was, but I'm not her anymore. She must have been troubled with something, but I don't remember what it was." I sighed, feeling...relieved. "So, those are my secrets." His eyes began burning into me. "I'm comfortable with you, and I wanted to share them with you." His hands gripped me just a little tighter, making the rest of my skin tingle. He opened his mouth to say something.

"OOOOOOOOOHHH!!"

We both looked over at the table of college students. Someone had definitely won the game. Brendon laughed softly, looking back at me. "You want to go somewhere that isn't extremely loud?"

"Sure," I answered. "We can go to my house."

"I'll follow you."

\-------

The entire drive home I kept thinking about what I had just told Brendon. I told him I was comfortable with him, and I told him my secret. Not only that, but I also had just told him I knew _I_ was the girl he'd had feelings for. Earlier in the week, when I saw him and Brent in the hallway with Maggie and Carla, I assumed one of them was the girl he'd told me about. But as I dreamed about him, I started putting pieces together and I knew there was a high chance that it was me. Even if it wasn't, I had realized how much I cared for him, so I decided it was worth the embarrassment of admitting it to him and getting rejected.

But he didn't tell me otherwise. Although he was interrupted, I felt the way his hands squeezed me. It seemed like a very familiar feeling. A good feeling.

I pulled into the driveway, and Brendon parked by the curb. He walked with me to the door, silently. We didn't know where to start up again. I became nervous again. I kept fumbling with the keys like I was trapped in a horror movie. He noticed my shaking and lightly placed his hand on the small of my back just in time to feel me shiver.

"I thought you were comfortable with me," he whispered in my ear. I couldn't help the breath I let out. As everything flashed in my head. The burning eyes he gave me, the sweet smiles he always greeted me with, and the velvet voice he liked to use. And I knew _he knew_ what he was doing. I couldn't come up with an explanation, so I forced myself to slowly and deliberately grip my house key and slide it into the keyhole.

As we entered the house, and the door clicked shut, the atmosphere became intensely different.


	9. ...Consequence

"You're nervous again," he commented. I could tell he was smiling even though I'd begun avoiding eye contact. I was nervous, and I didn't understand why. I had already told him everything. I couldn't be nervous about trying to hide something. "You're waiting for my answer." I finally peeked up at him. "You don't have to be afraid of me if I say no," he smirked. "You know that?"

"I do," I answered. Ugh, I was getting very sick of how I was acting. I needed to get my confidence back. I decided to start at being nonchalant and work my way up from there. "You don't have to tell me," I shrugged. "I think I could live without the answer."

"Oh, is that so?" his smirk becoming more sly. He was obviously seeing through my attitude. As I walked to my kitchen, he followed behind. It began feeling like a game as we bantered back and forth. "So it wouldn't just ache you everyday to constantly wonder what my feelings are? You know, I'm pretty sneaky. I could lead you on and I could lead you off." I swallowed, facing my refrigerator. "But you'd never know what I really wanted." I pulled out a water bottle and offered it to him. He declined with a shake of his head.

His face was still turned up in playing mode. I was starting to think he was going to win. I had begun a game I wasn't even sure how to play; however, Brendon seemed to be an expert. He had also come to learn exactly what made me nervous. I wasn't sure what I could do to get a reaction out of him.

"You think I can't do the same?" I leaned back against the counter.

"Mm," he rested his arms against the island on the complete opposite side of the room, giving me a devious smile, "I haven't seen an example of you doing it yet."

"Maybe you have," I pushed myself up onto the counter and adjusted my right leg over my left. "I can be sneaky when I want to be."

He cackled, "No, Elisa, you can't." He knew the way it affected me when he used my full first name. He added too much emphasis on it to be subtle enough. "I can pretty much always tell when you're nervous or lying."

"Unless the person you think you know isn't who I actually am," I suggested.

"Oh, so you're not Elisa Moné? Well, I'm in the wrong house then," he threw his arms in the air. "Guess I should go, hm?"

"What, are you done playing?" I folded my arms. He made his way around the island and got incredibly close to me.

"What if we just fast forward through the game?" his eyes pinned me again. "Pretend we both won."

"Ah, what do we win?" I scooted off the counter.

"Each other," he breathed. Our smiles faded. His breath hit my face and I realized his hands were on my waist. My hands slid up from his stomach, passed his chest, to his neck. I was suddenly very dizzy, like my head couldn't comprehend his touch, or that it was really happening. My legs became weak, and I feared I might collapse, but my eyes were glued to Brendon's, and his to mine.

"Tell me what you want," I quietly urged him.

"I think you could make a good guess," he pointed out. I smiled, agreeing with him in my head. "You make me feel like singing," he sighed. I didn't know what to say to that.

"Sing what?" I whispered.

"I don't know," his velvety voice hummed, "But I don't doubt you'll give me inspiration." he kept one hand on my waist and used the other to pull my face into his. Our lips crashed and it felt...right. Our first kiss was short and sweet. After it, we stood there and stared at each other for a few moments before we had a mutual understanding of hunger, and we were met again. He had me pinned against the cold steel of the refrigerator as my fingers clawed him closer to me.

My phone chimed in my pocket, and hand instinctively tried to grab it, but he grabbed my wrist and held it against the metal, never breaking the kiss. "Mm," I whimpered. My skin was shocked. As I tried with the other hand, he did the same maneuver. I turned my head and Brendon simply kissed the side of my face, traveling down my neck.

"Let me answer it, Bren," I giggled.

"Mm-mm."

"It could be important," I urged.

"Not more important than this," he ran his nose up my neck back to my face. I laughed and squirmed. "Alright, alright," he sighed, letting my hands fall.

I quickly slid my phone out of my pocket and flipped it open, forgetting to check the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, Lisa," Rudy answered. "How are you doing?"  
I looked at Brendon. He leaned back against the island, watching me, smirking. I smiled wide, "I'm doing great. Really great."

"Yeah," Rudy was surprised. "That's ..good. You certainly sound happier."

"I am," I assured him softly, Brendon's eyes softening as well.

"Well, I know Marisol called you earlier to ask if you wanted to hang out, but," he paused. "I don't know. I figured I'd offer it one more time because I know you tend to need a push every now and then."

"What are you thinking?" I asked as Brendon reached his hand out to mine. Our fingers touched, causing those sparks my dream Brendon told me about. I stifled a laugh as I remembered.

"Dinner and a movie?" he suggested.

"Oh, wow, that's a sweet offer Rudy, but think Marisol would kill me," I chuckled.

"Shut up, man," he laughed. "I figured it'd be all of us. Marisol and you and me and Brendon. I haven't called him yet, actually."

"You don't need to," I told him. I looked back up at Brendon, "You want to go out with Rudy and Mare tonight?"

"I'm up for..." he leaned closer to me and put his hands on either side of me against the refrigerator," anything."

I snorted, "Yeah, we'll come."

"What are you two doing?" Rudy asked casually.

"Just..catching up," I smiled as Brendon touched his nose on mine. "Tell you what, you go ahead and text me the plan, and we'll meet you wherever." Brendon dropped his hands to my shoulders and let them slide down my arms, hopping over to my hips. He pulled me close. "Speaking of which, I better go get ready. See you then, Rudy!" I flipped the phone shut and set it on the counter as Brendon groaned, wanting me against him again. I couldn't argue with him that time. I wanted the same.

\-------

"Dude, what the hell?" Marisol whispered angrily. "Why didn't you tell me you and Brendon got together?" He and Rudy had left to go get drinks for the movie.

"Because it seriously just happened," I urged. "Chill out." Upon arriving to the theater to meet our friends, Brendon had firmly gripped my hand, and I gazed up at him.

"I'm assuming this is okay," he chuckled.

"No, man. I'll make out with you, whatever. But holding hands is too far," I tried peeling my hand from his, but he gripped it tighter and pulled me closer.

"Ha ha, so funny," he smiled kissing the back of my hand.

Of course when Marisol had seen that interaction, she almost burst into flames. She was happy for me, but mad that she didn't know about it sooner. There was no pleasing her. I wondered if Brendon and Rudy were having a similar conversation. Except Rudy would be a lot more cool about it.

The boys returned right as the previews began. Throughout the movie, Brendon had a hand on me almost the whole time. Whether it was his arms snaked around my back, or his fingers intertwined with mine, or even just his hand planted deliberately on my thigh. I could never imagine doing any of this with him when I first met him. But I was happy it happened.

"I don't like it," Marisol folded her arms as the credits began rolling up.

"Why not?" I asked.

"It was scary and creepy and gross," she whined. "Not my thing."

"Then why did you guys choose it?" Brendon demanded before I could.

"HE chose it!" Marisol pointed at Rudy. "Probably thought it would make me collapse into his arms in fright, but all it did was make me mad!" Rudy just shrugged. He was into the horror and the gore, and he was the one who got me into it. He made it a point to try and see as many horror movies as he could. He found it entirely too entertaining.

"Well," I sighed, "Sounds like Ms. Cranky here needs a meal. Where are we going?"

"I really just want, like, fast food or something," Marisol said. We were all okay with that and began a caravan to the nearest Taco Bell.

"I didn't take you for someone who liked horror movies," Brendon commented, the lights of oncoming traffic illuminating his face a few seconds at a time.

"Yeah, I guess I got that from Rudy," I smiled. "He's been a very influential friend."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at Rudy's headlights in his rear view mirror.

"Well, after the accident, I didn't have an identity," I explained. "Marisol introduced herself to me first, but Rudy presented himself as someone I could latch onto if I so needed. He spent the most time with me to begin with, especially since we had a lot of classes together. He got me hooked on all his music and his movies, and even his clothing. I mean, he really was the one who taught me how to be a person again."

"I didn't realize your connection was so deep." I looked over at him and noticed his face was very calculating.

"What is it?" I beckoned him.

"Hm?" He glanced at me. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about something."

"You're not thinking, like, me and ..Rudy..?" I trailed off.

"No," he laughed. "I didn't assume anything happened, and you wouldn't have to tell me if it did." I was surprised he wouldn't want to know.

"I just didn't want you to get jealous or something," I teased his hand lightly with my finger tips, and he accepted it, resting our embraced hands on the center console. "Nothing happened between us, by the way," I admitted. "The only sort of closeness was him giving kisses on my forehead when I would have my little breakdowns. He's very compassionate and comforting."

"Mm," Brendon sounded. "I trust you two," he smiled. "Besides, he seems to really appreciate Marisol."

"I know," I sighed, smiling. "I'm really happy about them."

"I'm happy about us," he commented. He pulled our hands up to his face and laid a soft kiss on my skin. My hairs stood.  
Brendon filled his fountain drink up as I did mine. "You didn't have to pay for my food, you know."

"I know," he flashed me a smile.

"Rudy does that to me all the time," Marisol interjected. "Heartstruck boys," she winked. Rudy would do that anyways. He was a gentleman trapped inside a death metal punk's body. Very selfless.

Dinner was great. We again had a lot of fun. I felt silly for the way I had been acting before. I didn't need to be scared of my friends or feel like I had to push them away. I almost forgot why I had done that.

"So, I was going to tell you about this sooner, but we kept getting caught on other topics," Brendon began. "So that kid, Ryan Ross, he's apparently trying to put together a band."

"Sweet," Rudy commented. "Did he ask you to join or something?"

"Not exactly, but I'm definitely interested."

"I think you should ask him about it. You know, see what your styles are like," I suggested.

"I'm not sure I have a style," Brendon shrugged. We talked more about it, but Brendon was obviously not comfortable with himself musically. Not yet. I told him he might get better accustomed with himself if he got with other musically inclined people. I knew Rudy could teach him some great things. Maybe someone from his music class would become compatible with him.

\-------

"I'm _very_ glad you called me today," Brendon murmured.

"I'm still surprised I mustered up the courage to," I laughed. "I'm surprised you came."

"I was practically waiting for you to get some sense into your head," he tapped my forehead. "Of course I left as soon as I got your message."

"What were you doing when I called?" I blurted out.

"Singing a song I wrote," he answered.

"Could I hear it?"

"Maybe when it's ready," he smiled. "So," he sighed. "I better get home. And you should get some sleep. You've had quite the eventful day."

"Indeed," I agreed. He gazed deep into my eyes and I couldn't help but stare back. The goodnight kiss he gave me was so romantic and sweet, I didn't want it to end.

"Goodnight, Elisa," he whispered to my lips.

"Goodnight, Bren," I whispered back. I watched him return to his car and drive away. I took in a deep breath of the night air, and for the first time in a while, I felt content.

"You didn't tell me when you'd be coming home," my mom scolded as I walked in. I sighed and pulled my jacket off.

"I told you what I was doing. I didn't know when I'd get back. I even wrote that on the note I left," I reminded her.

"I don't like you being out at night," she put her hands in her hips. Did she expect me to say, "okay, mom, you're right"? She continued to lecture me about the mistakes I made in the past, and that it was unacceptable for me to make them again.

"Why are you threatening me with things I did in the past?! I don't even remember doing any of that!" I screamed at her. I didn't mean to explode, but she was constantly reminding me of memories that were no longer mine, and getting upset with me for the silliest things. I was finally at capacity with my anger. "Why can't you understand?! You can't teach someone a lesson about the things they do wrong if they don't remember what they've done!" Her eyes were wide. "Also, why do you think you have any sort of authority over me. Ever since I woke up, you've been trying to reprimand me. You didn't teach me how to do anything. I had to rely on kids at school to understand life again. I should've been getting all that from _you_! The one who _gave birth to me!_ "

"We're _done_ with this conversation," she snapped, and stormed to the living room. I ran up the stairs into my room. As soon as the door shut, I grabbed a big duffel bag and started shoving clothes into it. When it was full, I pulled out my phone and called Marisol.

"Hey, what's up?" She answered.

"My mom is getting ridiculous," I blurted out.

"Getting ridiculous?" She repeated. "Hasn't she been that way for a while?"

"Can I stay over a while?" I asked. "Tell your dad he won't have to worry about taking care of me for anything. I will provide for myself. I just need to get out of here."

"He'll be totally fine with it. He adores you because you take care of me when he's gone," she laughed. "Come on over and I'll explain it to him while you're on your way."

"Okay, see you in ten."

I grabbed everything I decided I would need to get ready everyday. Of course I couldn't pack up my whole room, but I could always come back while mom was gone. I grabbed the duffel bag and my messenger bag, and turned my light off, shutting my door. I made no point to be quiet as I stepped down the stairs and went to the front door.

"Where do you think you're going?" My mom jolted up from the couch.

"Anywhere that isn't here," I muttered, opening the door. "I'm an adult, you can't possibly tell me what I can and can't do. Don't expect me back anytime soon." With that, I slammed the door behind me and threw my bags into the bed of my truck.

My blood was boiling as I drove. I rolled my windows down to allow some air to whip around me. I understood why my mom was so angrily overprotective of me, but I was upset that she would constantly try to use one mistake against me to make me feel guilty or feel like she was always right. She wasn't always right. I couldn't keep thinking about it. It was way too frustrating.

I pulled up in front of Marisol's house, too livid to notice anything but the lights coming from her windows. The living room was lit up yellow and a news program was flashing from the television. Her father was probably asleep in the chair. Marisol's bedroom window was lit up behind a curtain. I remembered when Marisol got really sick the year before, she'd decided to quarantine herself in her room, and wouldn't let anyone come over. She called me, begging me to pick up french fries for her, and when I got to her house, she opened the window and accepted them. I liked the view from my house since it was two stories, but a one story house seemed pretty convenient in certain ways.

"Lis?" I heard that soft velvety voice out my open window. I looked across the street and saw Brendon walking towards me. I turned off the engine. My negativity faded, and I couldn't resist my smile. Once again, I felt silly for getting so emotional. "You just couldn't go more than ten minutes without seeing me, hm?" he grinned, leaning into my window.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself," I rolled my eyes. "My heart is really drawn to Marisol." He responded with a huge sarcastic cackle. "How did you notice I was here so fast anyways? Were you actually spying on Marisol's dad or something."

"You do realize your truck can be heard from five miles away, right?" I laughed and pat the dashboard. He noticed my bags in the bed, "You having another sleepover?"

"I just need to get away from my mom," I sighed.

"Hey guys," Marisol called out from the bedroom window. "Lisa, when you and Precious Eyes are done flirting, the front door is unlocked." She started to shut the drapes but peeked back out, "Night, Brendon!" And she let them fall.

Brendon blushed and laughed softly. "'Precious Eyes', huh? Well, how could I deny?" He fluttered his eyelids.

"She came up with it on your first day at school," I defended myself. "I believe the full name was _Mr. Precious Eyes and Pouty Lips_."

"Are my lips really pouty?" He asked, lightly touching them.

"Well, I mean, they're not exactly thin, Bren," I shrugged. "I think girls just call boys' lips pouty once they get passed certain level of thickness." He seemed just a little confused, like he didn't know how to take that comment. "It's not a bad thing," I assured him.  "A lot of girls like it."

"And what about you?" He eyed me devilishly. I responded with a seductive little growl. At least, I was trying to be seductive. Brendon just laughed. "I did not expect such a sound to come from your lips. I might need some sleep to process that."

"I don't blame you. There are a lot of things for me to process about today," I agreed.

"Like what?" he asked as he pulled my bags out of my truck. I climbed out and thanked him as he placed them on my shoulders.

"Like how I went from totally uninspired and dead when I woke up this morning, to being fully aware and being able to do this," I reached my hand out for his, and he didn't hesitate to grasp it.

We said our second goodnights and walked in opposite directions. Once I got inside, I thanked Marisol's father for allowing me to stay and he graciously offered me to stay as long as I needed to. When I closed Marisol's door behind me, she made me sit down and tell her everything that had happened.

I recapped the events of that day, getting special feelings inside as I thought about it all. I felt so much more confident. I knew I didn't have to be totally afraid to tell Brendon anything anymore. At that point, the future didn't matter. The present was the best part of my life, and even if it wasn't going to last, I wanted to appreciate the moments I had just experienced.


	10. Crazy

As the days passed, we were all on the job hunt. Brendon was very quickly hired at a smoothie place, and he worked there for a few hours after school, and over the weekends. I was happy for him, but I was also jealous that I couldn't seem to get anyone to call me back. Marisol became a babysitter, so whenever I got home, she was either in the living room with a kid or two, or she wasn't there at all.

Rudy and I would hang out while the other two were working. It kind of felt like old times. We were together so often before, but then Marisol sort of pushed herself into my life and took up a lot of my time. Not to say I didn't welcome her. I mean, she's one of my best friends. But I think that's where I got my forwardness from. She didn't sugar coat anything with me and that's how I started talking to others. So Rudy and I would hang out and do homework or help each other job hunt, but that ended when he was hired at a small retail shop in the mall. I'd sent in an application there, but they never hired me.

Again, I was alone a lot of the time. Whenever Marisol's father came home, I rushed into her bedroom and tried to be as quiet as possible. I felt guilty that he was letting me stay there on the condition that I'd take care of myself, and I didn't even have a job.

As it stood then, I had enough money to get me by. Before the accident, I worked for my grandparents almost every summer on their farm. Because I was family, they paid me a lot. At the time, I didn't need to spend it on anything, so I'd stashed it. I found it a couple weeks after coming home. It was in a plastic jar with duct tape labeling it as: "Car Fund." When I had counted all the money, I'd realized there was several thousand dollars in the jar. I saved it and didn't really tell my mom how much was in there. At the time, I was still uncomfortable with her and was still unsure who she was. She told me about my grandparents and offered to take me there the next summer to see them and work for them again, but once I met Marisol and Rudy, they made me want to stay with them.

When I turned eighteen at the end of my junior year, I bought a truck from a guy who was only selling it for three thousand dollars. He told me it wasn't in the best condition, but I understood why I had been storing all that money for a car. It was because of my mother. She was very overprotective, but it was less in a way that I was her daughter and she cared about me. It was more like I was something she owned and she would be damned if she lost me. I was a natural driver, surprisingly. I assumed Nikko might've taught me how to drive because I was so comfortable behind the wheel. I took every opportunity to get out of the house when I got my license.

I would've loved to use my truck for something useful like going to work, but I was having such trouble with job hunting. I didn't understand why nobody would hire me.

My stomach grumbled outrageously loud, so I grabbed my things and left the house. I didn't know where I was going, but I just needed something that would fill up my stomach. I decided to see how Brendon was doing at work, and have him fix me up a smoothie. Maybe he'd play me a song as well. He'd began bringing his guitar to the shop, and he actually started playing songs for the customers for tips. I'd seen him sing multiple times at that point, and every time he did, it was just hypnotizing almost.

When Pulled up, I noticed Brendon was sitting in a chair close to the center of the room with his guitar. I quickly climbed out of my truck, eager to hear what he was singing. I opened the door softly to not disturb him, but he'd become more comfortable with himself, and he wouldn't get as nervous when he performed in the shop. He looked up at me as I closed the door behind me, and he smiled, winking at me.

_"Is it lust? Is it love?_

_Whatever it is, I can't get enough._

_Is it lust? Is it love?_

_When I look around, tell me who can I trust?"_

I looked around as I remembered that song coming on the radio a week before then. I was changing the stations, but stopped once I found that song. It was one of the only two Scorpions songs I knew, so I got excited and sang along. Brendon was greatly amused. It was a good choice for him to sing because older songs like that would get him better tips.

I sat down and couldn't get myself to stop smiling as he played. It was always entertaining to watch and listen to him, especially because he really looked like he enjoyed his talents being appreciated and even asked for. The customers applauded him as his song came to an end, and he accepted a five from an older man sitting on the other side of the room. He set his guitar back on it's stand and made his way over to me.

I pulled out five ones and waved them at him, "Poison! Poison!"

"Put your money away," he laughed. "Unless you want your smoothie."

"Dr. Feelgood?" I pouted. He snorted.

"Tell you what," he offered, "I'll come over and sing to you _after_ work."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. He usually got a little nervous when I even mentioned doing that.

"I promise," he lightly tapped my noise with his index finger. "You want your usual?" I nodded, handing him the money.

\-------

I waited eagerly for Brendon to get off work. I wanted to spend more time with him, and be able to get my one on one show. I had already finished my homework, and cleaned Marisol's room. I didn't have anything to do except lay down. I felt myself beginning to fall asleep, so I turned my phone's volume all the way up.

There was a sudden knock at the window; however, I still woke up softly. I rolled over and pulled the curtains back and saw Brendon with the pink and orange sunset sky behind him. I felt embarrassed for falling asleep, but I grabbed my phone and rushed to the door.

"Did you forget our date, Sleeping Beauty?" he smirked. I was about to defend myself, but I was cut off by his lips rushing to be against mine. After a few "I missed you" kisses, he pulled back, "You want to come over?"

"Yes," I answered promptly. He took my hand and lead me across the street. I didn't pay attention to the inside of his house, but when he pulled me into his room, I felt like it looked way too similar to mine.

"What do you want to hear?" he sat me down on his bed. He pulled a chair in front of me and sat on it with his guitar. He began strumming randomly, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," I murmured. "Anything you sing will make me spin."

"Spin, huh?" His eyes burned, and his smile was devious. "What song would make you spin the most, I wonder." I watched his fingers as he played, and I realized I couldn't hear what he was playing. Although, I could hear myself humming. What am I humming?

_"...don't struggle like that or i will only love you more..."_

The Cure. My favorite song they ever did. I didn't think I had even told him that. How did he know?

The feelings in the air blatantly shifted, and his strumming stopped. It was extremely quiet, except that I thought I could hear his heart beat. Its pace began very relaxed, but soon quickened. He set his guitar aside and leaned towards me, placing his hands on the bed on either side of me. "What are you thinking?" he urged. I could feel heat radiating off of him. I couldn't speak. He knew I was trying to, and seemed amused at my speechlessness. He smiled and looked down, "I think I could make a good guess."

My hands seemed unclear of what to do until they decided to reach out and touch his face. The touch seemed to trigger something in him. It was like something he'd been waiting to unleash. He jolted up from the chair and climbed on top of me.

"Brendon!" He stopped. It wasn't an unhappy sounding exclamation; however, it wasn't egging him on. He didn't seem to know which way to take it.

"This is too much," he breathed, "I'll stop." He attempted to pull away, but to our surprise, my fingers had latched onto his shirt, and were preventing him from leaving.

"I don't know what I want," I whispered.

I woke up with a gasp. It felt like I hadn't been breathing. My body instinctively shot up as a chill crawled up my back. Brendon wasn't there. His guitar wasn't there. The sheets I was laying on were familiar. "I haven't left," I breathed. I smacked my head and dropped back down on the bed. "Stop dreaming!" I commanded myself.

"I second that," I heard a mutter. My neck ached as I quickly turned my head to the voice. Marisol was sitting at her small desk in the corner, fixing her makeup. "You're annoying when you sleep."

"When did you get here?" I sat up, feeling my forehead. My skin was really hot.

"Like, I don't know, almost an hour ago?" she peered at me through the mirror. "You know you talk in your sleep, right?" My heart skipped. "I guess I'm not surprised you're dreaming about Brendon," she laughed.

"What?" I swung my legs off the bed. "What did I say?"

"I don't know," she applied her eye liner, "It's mostly mumbles whenever you talk, but I did hear you say 'Brendon'. What, were you guys making out or something?"

"Not really," I ran my fingers through my hair.

"Oh. My. God." She spun around in her chair. "Did you just totally have a nasty dream about him?"

"No!" I said, disgustedly. Not that it was a gross thought, but the way she said it was horrible. "It might've been..getting to that point. But..I .. I don't know. I stopped him."

"Why?" she was curious.

I shook my head, "I don't know." I thought back and realized I couldn't decipher what I had been feeling. "I just said, 'I don't know what I want.'"

"Are you having second thoughts about you two together?"

"I haven't been thinking anything like that," I urged, standing up. "Usually my dreams make a little bit of sense, but I don't know what that means."

"I don't know, babe," she turned back around and continued with her makeup.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Rudy is taking me out tonight," she smiled. "Some place nice. Not the usual Denny's. He's decided that since he's making money, he wants to start treating me out, and buying me things."

"Does he realize you're a spoiled little princess?" I came up next to her and look at myself in the mirror.

"Yeah, but that seems to amuse him more than it does scare him," she cocked her head slightly. "He's a strange one."

"He's been wanting to give you everything for a while now. He's excited to finally go bankrupt over you," I laughed as I wiped black smudges from under my eyes. "I look worn and shitty," I moaned.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, Brendon was going to come over after work and-"

"Say no more!" Marisol interrupted me. "I got you covered." She sat me down in a chair and fixed my face. She removed everything I had on before and put on her own colors. My eyes weren't the typical black anymore, she put a dark purple at the bottom of my eye lid, and blended it with a lighter shade the higher she went. "I know you like your dark makeup and whatever, so I'll do a think line," she said as she unscrewed the cap to her black liquid liner. "But this purple is going to make the green pop." I closed my eyes and felt the cool on my skin. She meticulously ran the brush across the very edge of my eye lid before thickening the mark. Then I felt her making flicks at the outer corners of my eyes. Cat eyes. Something I'd tried to do a couple times before, but failed at. "When is Brendon getting off?" I peeked at my phone.

"Hour and a half," I answered. "Why?"

"Because that means I can fix your hair!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"What's wrong with my hair?" I demanded.

"It's always straightened!" She complained. "Let me have fun with it, please?!" She continued to whine about it until I finally gave in. She grabbed her curling iron and clicked it on. While she waited for it to heat up, she resumed working on my face. She brushed powder all over my face until it was the complexion she thought was perfect. She grabbed an eyebrow pencil out of her bag. "This one is a lot lighter than the one you use because you keep picking the wrong shade," she laughed. "This one is actually going to fill in and shape your eyebrows instead of just cover them up. She delicately shaded in my brows and added a line around the edges of my lips before she started on my hair.

I didn't know why I let her do me up. I wasn't going anywhere. Brendon was going to think it was weird that I got done up for him to just sit in a room and play for me.

She added the final touches: a soft red lipstick, thick mascara, and sweet pink blush. She spun me towards the mirror to take a look at the finished product. I honestly couldn't believe it. I actually liked it. My blonde hair was done in big, loose waves and my face looked like a porcelain doll's compared to how I usually did my makeup. I was brighter. Sharper. I wasn't so...dull.

She sped over to her closet and rummaged through her clothes. I watched her until she pulled out a leopard print cocktail dress. I was about to protest before she decided it wouldn't work. Then she grabbed her black, knee length pencil skirt and threw it at me. I simply looked at it.

"What are you waiting for?" She asked. "Strip!" I sighed before undressing and pulling the skirt on. Once I zipped it up, I stepped back and looked in the mirror. It reached just under the middle of my thighs.

"This is way too short!" I held my arms out in exasperation.

"Yeah, because you're like a thousand feet taller than me!" She yelled. She tossed me a pair of black leggings and a billowy, blue blouse with a dropped back.

"What do you think I'm going to be doing?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter," she put her hands on her hips. "Even if Rudy and I are going to watch movies at his house, he knows to expect me walking in dressed to kill."

"Well yeah, that's because you're that kind of girl," I retorted. "I'm not like that, and Brendon knows it. This will look weird."

"Maybe at first, but then he'll realize how hot you look and it won't matter." She helped me into the shirt and tucked it into the skirt. When she handed me a pair of shiny black heals, I couldn't help but complain about how impractical it all was.

\------

"He's going to think this is silly," I whispered as I walked to the front door. His knocks made my heart hum nervously.

"Just _go_ , asshole!" Marisol hushed me and shoved me. She went back to her room and I took a deep breath before opening the door.

"Hey, Lis-" his words froze, but his eyes wandered. He stood there in a white t-shirt and slim blue jeans. He still had his work hat on. His eyes tried to stop themselves, but they continued to scan me down. He seemed almost entranced, making me blush. " _Wow_ ," he breathed.

"It's way too much, I know," I bowed my head. I was so embarrassed. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's not a problem or anything," he interrupted, finally finding words. "You're just so...beautiful, and I'm...just got off work, and..." He remembered his hat and quickly tugged it off his head, stuffing it into his back pocket. "I just didn't assume..." He seemed to not know what to say, and neither did I. " _You're amazing_ ," he smiled, finally meeting my eyes. I blushed more and he softly reached out for me. He pulled me by my hips and caught my lips with his.

"I'm embarrassed," I told him as we parted.

"Don't be," he assured me. "You still want your little show?" I smiled and nodded. He took my hand and pulled me toward his house.

I knew this wasn't a dream because I could actually pay attention to my surroundings.

Once inside, I surveyed the front room. There were very pretty paintings on the walls, and vibrant carpeting, which looked like it was new. The lights on the walls were inexpensive looking, but their designs were intricate. I noticed family pictures set up on a table against a wall. Brendon let me lead him towards the photos. He shared with me who his family members were and even shared a few memories that came to mind when he looked at them.

At that point, no one was home with him. His parents had gone out to dinner and his siblings didn't live with them anymore. We had the house to ourselves.

"C'mon," he lightly tugged my arm. "My guitar is in my room." We traveled up the stairs, his fingers still gripping my hand, and I took notice of more family pictures and how perfectly they were hung up on the walls. Everything I saw in the house was simple, like all the furniture and lights and little picture frames; however, they seemed to place everything just so, and it made the rooms all look elegant. Brendon's bedroom was not very big and not as neat as all the other rooms I saw.

"Oh, I'm being a little bit rude," he smacked his forehead. "Are you hungry? Or thirsty?"

"I could use some water," I answered. He quickly left the room. I stepped quietly around, surveying the scene. Some clothes were piled in a hamper near the door. His bed was made and a few posters adorned the walls. I noticed his guitar placed in its stand next to the bed as he stepped into the room.

"Your house is really nice," I commented.

"Yeah, my parents like to keep things tidy and all that," he shrugged. "My room isn't nearly as nice as everything else."

"It's comfortable though," I said as he handed me my water. He agreed as I took a sip.

"Well, here, sit down," he lead me to his bed and allowed me to comfortably set myself on the mattress. "Well, you got to hear Scorpions today," he winked at me. "What'll we have next, hm?" The dream flashed in my mind, The Cure's tune dancing along,tempting me. However, if real life was going to take a similar turn as my dream did, I wasn't sure if that was really what I wanted. I decided not to test it.

"I still want to hear Poison," I playfully crossed my arms. He laughed and took a moment to think about the song. I noticed he did that sometimes in the shop. I wondered if he just needed to get into the mindset of the song. Soon he started. His acoustic, of course, didn't sound the same as when Alice Cooper performed it, but it was entirely recognizable. I smiled as his voice rang.

_"Your cruel.. device_  
 _Your blood.. like ice_  
 _One look.. could kill_  
 _My pain.. your thrill!"_

He rocked as he played and closed his eyes a lot of the time. Maybe he was nervous. It sounded so nice, and I just took it all in. I wanted to sing the chorus with him, but I wondered if that might've distracted him. I felt my legs tingle as the sound went on.

_"I hear you callin and it's needles and pins!_  
 _I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name!_  
 _Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin!_  
 _I wanna kiss you, but your lips are venomous poison!"_

He stole quick, devilish looks at me, making my skin get hot. I was, no doubt, blushing.

"Happy?" He asked softly. I nodded. He laughed and set the guitar back on its stand. "Now don't tell me my voice just totally took your breath away," he slowly stood, leaning over me.

"Maybe a little," I mumbled. He smiled and bend down to kiss me. My lips greeted him eagerly, and my fingers snaked through his hair. He sighed and leaned his head down. "What's wrong?" I asked, worried I had done something wrong.

"Nothing," he breathed. "It's just... It makes me go a little crazy when you do this." His hands softly found my fingers in his hair. "And then you're dressed like this." His other hand found my knee and slowly slid up my thigh. I felt my toes curl and my stomach flip. My legs tensed up when he reached the skirt. I wondered if he was going to slip his hand underneath it, and then I wondered whether or not I really wanted him to. He sighed and just pushed me back to lay properly on the bed and he laid down next to me, on his stomach. I was relieved, but also slightly embarrassed.

I didn't mean to lead him on like that. He'd never reacted quite that way when I stroked his hair before. Did he think I was trying to get him to pounce me? And even if I was, how was I supposed to feel about him stopping, and just laying down? If those were my intentions, I would feel really stupid right at that moment. And I did feel stupid. I felt like I might cry, but I forced myself to knock it off.

He sighed and buried his face in my neck. "You're so warm," he mumbled pleased against my skin. I couldn't help but smile. I realized he was tired. He sort of always got a little more baby-faced and murmur-y when he became sleepy, and I found it cute. "Just stay with me, so I can be warm while I sleep." His arms wrapped around me as I rotated to face him. He kept himself buried.

"I don't think your parents would be comfortable with that," I commented, resting my chin on his head. I felt a small peck against my skin. "Besides, I'll probably distract you from getting a good night of sleep."

"Mm-mmm," he sleepily protested. I stayed with him for a while longer. I felt like it was perfect with him. Every other moment was secondary compared to that one. "Mmm. My parents will be home soon," he groaned.

"I should go before I start falling asleep too," I murmured. We pushed ourselves up from the mattress and made our way back downstairs. "You don't have to walk me back," I said opening the front door. "You look really tired."

His hair had become slightly tousled and his eyes were a little squinty. "You sure?" I nodded and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Night, babe," he smiled.

I returned the grin, "Goodnight."

I quickly made my way back to Marisol's house. Her father's car was in the driveway next to my truck. Once I got inside, I noticed he was sitting in his recliner, watching the television. He looked over at me.

"Goodnight, Mr. Sorely," I smiled.

"Night, Lisa," he waved before looking back into the screen. I rushed into the bedroom and immediately took off the tight skirt and silly shirt. I decided to sleep in my bra and panties because I was too tired to put anything else on. Marisol wouldn't care. I slipped into the bed and curled up.

I remembered the way it felt to lay down with Brendon. My body suddenly ached to have his arms around it again. I settled for my own arms, pretending they were his, and I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep.


	11. Progress & the Desert

" _Really_?" I shrieked. "He wants you to join their band?"

"Well, I'm not sure what they want me to do yet," Brendon shrugged. "But he told me he wants the rest of the guys to stay in practice even if he can't be there, so he asked me to sing with them for their practices and stuff."

"Still," I urged. "That's a pretty great opportunity for your voice to grow and be heard even more." He agreed, but seemed like he really didn't want to talk about it. I pulled my jacket a little tighter against my body.

The weather had started to drop, and I got cold really fast. I'd noticed that I was feeling incredibly cold when others were mildly chilly after my accident. The doctors told me it could be a side effect of the accident. My head was slightly concussed. I didn't have any real noticeable brain damage, but it was suggested my nerves could've been a little rattled and shocked, so their perceptions might become more extreme. I feel a lot colder a lot sooner than others do, and the same goes for heat. As I sat there with Brendon in the park, I wore a thick hat, a scarf, and a thick jacket. He wore his usual light jacket, making no significant changes in his wardrobe.

I noticed he had been staring at me. I shivered and looked up at him. "What?"

He smiled, "You're precious." He took my red hands into his and gripped them tight. "You're _freezing_!"

"You're _so warm_!!" I exclaimed, scooting closer to him and pulling his jacket open to close it around me. He laughed and held me. I felt my bottom lip quivering. "The middle of spring is the only time I don't feel like curling up in some hole to hibernate," I whined.

"Well, it'll be a new year soon," he commented, "Then spring will be that much closer." I warmed my nose on his neck. "Come on," he leaned back. "Let's get you some coffee or hot coco or something."

"I have work in an hour," I mumbled.

"I know. I won't make you late," he crossed his heart as he stood, pulling me up. I'd been hired at a retail store on the other side of the mall from Rudy's work. I'd been working there only two months and I found myself hating it, so I asked to be moved to the freight crew. I was too sensitive for customer service. If a customer came in and was very rude to me, I took it personally. It made me want to quit everyday. I wasn't sure how much longer I'd last there. 

We arrived at a coffee shop and he bought me a large, hot beverage. I gave him numerous kisses, thanking him, to which he just responded in laughter.

"How late are you working?" He asked as I took light sips, too impatient to wait for the drink to cool.

"I'm closing tonight," I grimaced.

"Do you think you'll be too tired?"

"That depends," I brushed my bangs back. "Too tired for what? To go jogging? To do homework?"

"Well, no," he chuckled. "I just want to see you."

"I'm right across the street from you," I reminded him. "We could get a string and two cans and hang out the windows and it'll be like we're right beside each other."

He brushed a quick, soft finger down my lips. It was his playful way of telling me to shut up. "We could take your truck out somewhere nice and just relax together."

"But it's so cold," I complained.

"You won't be cold with me," he assured. "We'll just grab a bunch of blankets and throw them in the bed. It'll be like camping." He didn't have to convince me too hard before I agreed to the plan. He stayed and chatted at the shop before he drove me back home. He planted a swift kiss on my cheek before letting me go to get ready for work.

Marisol was doing her homework when I walked in. She glanced up at me before returning to her paper. "Did you have fun?" She asked.

"Yep," I answered. "Looks like you've been having a blast."

"Eh, homework isn't as great as it used to be," she sighed.

"Could you do me a favor while I'm at work?" I asked, changing into a black polo and slacks. "At about eight thirty, could you put all my blankets into the drier?"

"What? Why? Are you really that cold," she closed her book.

"Yes, but Brendon wants to have a little camping trip, I guess," I told her, quickly putting my hair up into a clip. "By the time I get home from work, the blankets will be super warm and soft."

"Really?" Her tone of voice made me glance at her. "Huh. Where are you guys going?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Probably a little ways into the desert."

"Mm," she sounded suspicious. "Sounds..fun."

"What?" I demanded, turning around to face her. "Why do you have a tone?"

"Hey, I mean," she raised her hands up in defense. "Nothing, Lis. Just sounds ...really romantic."

"Yeah, but you're making it sound like we're going out into the night to... be gross." I crossed my arms.

She laughed at how I described it. "You're such a loser, Lisa," she buried her face in her hands. "I'll heat up your blankets for you, lover-girl."

"Thanks," I leaned down in the mirror and messed with my bangs for a bit before deciding that was as good as they'd get.

Work was as uneventful as ever. I worked in the area of the store that had the baby clothes and the shoes. My area wasn't ever the busiest area, but sometimes I felt the pressure. It became simple for me to run to the back room to grab a pair of shoes for a customer and promptly ring them up. Since my registers were the closest to the back room, I usually received the customers who were there to pick up a package. I wasn't as comfortable doing that, but I got better at being quick and smooth about it.

Finally my manager announced over the loud speakers that our store was closed, and I quickly began closing my registers. I found myself excited to get home and go out with Brendon. I didn't talk much with the other girls as we went to our lockers to get ready to leave. I was busy thinking about what Bren and I would do. I felt my face get hot as I wondered if he was actually thinking about...taking a huge step. I didn't know if I was okay with that.

As I climbed into my truck, my stomach growled, making me forget about the thoughts I'd been having before. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and found two messages.

Brendon: can't wait to see u tonight. Ill be at brent's.

Marisol: ur blankets are hottt

I was so hungry, and I wondered if Brendon was too. I called him, but he didn't answer.

"That boy eats anything at any time," I muttered to myself. I swung by Taco Bell and picked up our usual meals before rushing to Marisol's. I quickly pulled the bunch of blankets out of the drier and set them on the passenger's seat of my truck. I felt myself getting cold her, so I pulled a blanket on top of me as I drove.

Brent's house was always a little harder for me to find at night. There were too many streets I had to turn down with names which were too hard to remember. But I did finally make it. I parked on the curb, noticing almost every room in the house was lit up except one. I decided to call Brendon one more time before actually getting out of the warmth of my truck.

After a couple rings I was greeted with an enthusiastic: "Hiya, babe!"

"Come on!" I whined, "I have food and warmth!"

"I'll be right out," he laughed. After a minute or two Brendon finally appeared from behind the front door. He skipped his way to my truck, throwing a large pad and his guitar case into the bed. He eagerly let himself in. "Jesus, these blankets are so warm," he groaned in pleasure, wrapping himself up. I snorted, handing him the bag with his food in it. "Mmm," he sounded happy, "You're the best."

" I know," I smirked as he leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"How was work?" He asked as I drove the specific route he told me to.

"Boring," I sighed. "Wasn't a lot to do. I don't know how long I'll want to stay there."

"You didn't want to work there to begin with," he commented.

"Well, yeah, but I thought it would grow on me, but I guess the grunt work just isn't keeping me occupied," I pouted. "This isn't what I plan on doing with my life."

"What do you want to do then?" He asked. "Write?"

"Yes, that's all I've ever wanted." I went on and on for a few minutes about how my writing began and he seemed to enjoy hearing about it. "I just..can never seem to finish a story."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Perhaps a lack of material. I want to go to, like, Vegas or something and experience something fun and crazy! You know, so crazy that I wouldn't be able to shut up about it. I'd have something to write about then, I think."

"I'll take you there one day. But I've had a similar problem with song-writing," he commented, and then added, "Until recently."

"Because you're spending more time with the other guys?" I assumed.

"Not exactly," he smiled. I assumed I knew the actual reason, and if I was right, I didn't know what to say. He also didn't comment further on the subject. We found an empty desert area, and I pulled off the road, driving a little farther away from the street.

We hopped out and he pulled his guitar out of the bed, leaning it against a tire. We straightened the pad in the back, and layered it with blankets.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, smacking my head. "I'm dumb. I forgot pillows."

"Ah, whatever," he shrugged. "We can use our jackets. This is, after all," he turned to face the rest of the empty desert as opened his arms wide, "The wilderness. It calls for improvisation."

"Uh, yeah, I don't think ten minutes away from home counts as 'the wilderness,'" I used shivering air quotes. "Also, we have Taco Bell and blankets. I think we'd be a little more screwed in the actual wild."

"Oh, right," he spun around. "Food." We slipped our shoes off and climbed into the bed, getting comfortable as we could. We chatted as we ate. We seemed to not talk about super important things when we got into it. But I never felt bored with him. We always found something to discuss.

When our meals were complete, we laid back on the pad. I tried to keep myself from shivering so much that the truck shook, but it was difficult. Brendon seemed to notice and he wrapped his arms around me.

" _You're so warm!_ " I exclaimed, snuggling as close as I could.

"I have a feeling that's going to be your winter catch phrase," he joked.

"Maybe," I mumbled against his neck. We stayed quiet for a long time. I was pretty sure that was the quietest night I'd ever experienced. It was loud inside town. His fingers ran through my hair, soothing me. The night was beautiful and perfect. My body was tired, but I couldn't get myself to fall asleep.

"Bren?"

"Mm?" I felt the vibration of the sound from his chest.

"I'm so tired," I murmured, "But I don't think I can sleep."

"No?" He breathed. "Do you want me to sing to you? Maybe it would help."

I nodded softly. I shifted away to let him reach over the side of the truck to grab his case. He set it on the opened door by our feet and pulled out his guitar. He strummed it a few times, checking the sound.

"What should I sing?" he asked. I felt like it wasn't a legitimate question directed at me. It seemed more like he spoke out to himself. "Do you want to hear something I've been working on?" he spoke to me this time. I nodded.

He strummed softly before his voice rang out.

_"I will never sleep tonight,_  
 _While you still burn so bright."_

I fell in love with his voice the more I heard it. His quick, soft lullaby automatically drowned me into more sleepy state.

_"I'd trade all my mistakes for sheep,_  
 _You'd count them away before you sleep._  
 _I'll stay awake until they fade away..."_


	12. Bitter truth, Curiosity & the Band

"Do you remember when you first told me about your past?" he murmured. That was about the hundredth time we'd gone out to our usual desert spot to sleep. The weather did become colder for me, but if I kept bundled up and Brendon held me, I was pretty warm. Six months before, I had barely learned his name. How could I have foreseen all the embraces?

"Of course," I answered, remembering the long conversation at the coffee shop. I'd told him everything, and I felt so relieved. It didn't seem like it was important to tell him until I'd finally come out with it. Both of us seemed to feel better.

"Well," he took a deep breath, "I have something I need to share with you." He seemed..uncomfortable about it. He gave me a short, tight squeeze before releasing me. We both sat upright, and he scooted slightly away to face me. "This isn't going to be easy for me to say, mostly because I am afraid of your reaction."

"Why do you think I'll react badly?" I asked, helping myself to as many blankets as I could wrap around myself.

"Because our pasts are different," he stated promptly. "You couldn't control what happened to you, and hell, you can't even remember it." He had a point. As traumatic as my past may have been, I couldn't remember a second of it. Any sort of grief I had back then was nothing to me in the present. "I think about all the things I did all the time. I had control over myself, but I didn't stop myself from...you know, doing anything." He sighed. "I want to tell you this so you understand that I trust you with it, but I don't want you to walk away from me."

"Brendon, where would I go?"

"You could go anywhere," he urged. "You could find something to do with your life that's better than me. Like your writing. You could really make something of that."

"I feel like you're trying to make me leave," I felt my brow furrow. "Why are you even saying this?"

"I don't know, Lis," he rubbed his eyes. "I'm just nervous, I guess. You mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me too," I grabbed his hand. "That's why I'm not going to let your past interrupt how I might see our futures." That seemed to really make him relax. He took a few more breaths before he began again.

"So, before I moved here, I got in a little bit of trouble back home," he ran his fingers through his hair, and I felt the one sentence he was scared to say coming out, "I was really...not that great of a person. Basically, I had sex with a lot of girls."

I felt my heart sank. A bunch of different feelings ran through me. Of course when he said the word "sex," my mind automatically thought of him having sex. And then, my mind began putting faces to the girls he could've been having sex with. I didn't know any of the girls he'd been with, but that didn't stop me from thinking of a few girls at our school. As far as I knew, I was still a virgin. Should I have felt embarrassed? I didn't know what to think. Or what to say.

"I didn't care about anyone's feelings," he continued, "I'd sleep with one girl one night and then sleep with her sister the next." He shook his head. "It was a terrible way to live, telling a girl how much I liked her and then turning around and doing the same with someone else. It meant nothing to me until I finally had it happen to me." He was biting the inside of his lip. "I realized how shitty I felt, and realized how I'd made everyone else feel." He began shaking his head again. "This girl started going around, telling everyone I got her pregnant. At some point, it reached some parents and they of course told my mom. My parents were livid and immediately started looking for somewhere else for us to live."

" _Was_ that girl pregnant?" I squeaked.

"No, of course not," he laughed bitterly. "She was just pissed at me for kissing her best friend, and she wanted to get back at me." I had no real response for a long time. We sat there silently as I sifted through the knowledge I was just given. I hadn't given very much thought to whether or not Brendon might've had sex before. The one or two times I ever considered it, I'd decided it wouldn't really matter either way. So why was I unable to reassure him right away?

"You're upset," he finally spoke.

"I'm...trying to process," I finally responded.

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know," I rubbed my forehead. "But I can certainly tell you I'm not walking away." I pulled the blankets tighter. "Too cold anyways." I earned a very small laugh from him.

"I wanted to tell you when you told me about the accident," he assured me. "But I was just a little self-conscious about it."

"I understand," I murmured. "I'm not mad or uncomfortable, really. I guess it's just not the news I was expecting." He looked down at his knees. "It's in the past, babe," I rubbed my thumb against his hand.

He told me how much he appreciated me not blowing up at him. I honestly would have had no reason to. I couldn't be angry at him for things he did before we even knew each other. Especially since he expressed so much guilt about it. It wasn't just a nonchalant memory. We laid there together for a while, silent. Even though my head was still turning in the background, the air felt a lot more clear. The tension he had been holding was released, and it felt perfect to just lie there, quietly.

"Valentine's Day is soon," Brendon cut the silence. "Do you want to plan a date or do you want me to surprise you?" I rotated myself to face him, wrapping my cold arms around his warm body.

"Oh, you know me," I sighed, burying my face into his chest, "I'm all about the spontaneity."

"Alright, but you can't try and harass the plan out of me like you seem to always do," he warned me. "You tried that on Christmas and nearly ruined the present I got you."

"At least you still got to keep the surprise a surprise," I laughed. "They were very pretty." He'd given me a pair of sweet silver earrings. They were shaped like the letter "B." One could only assume what it stood for.

"I just remember you constantly trying to slip the question into conversations," he chuckled. "'Did you have a good day? Read this short story and tell me what you think. What did you get me for Christmas?'"

"Come on, I wasn't that obvious," I interjected. "Besides, it always managed to get a laugh out of you." Our conversations became increasingly easier, as though we hadn't just talked about a touchy subject. I don't remember everything we talked about, but we eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.

\-------

I sank into the bathtub, the hot water causing me to sigh in pleasure and relief. My toes were the coldest part of my body, and they felt so much better in the warm water. I grabbed a wash rag as I heard a knock at the bathroom door.

"Lisa?" Marisol asked. "Can I come in?"

"If you're alright with me being in the bath," I warned. She promptly opened the door and slid in. She didn't seem alarmed or distraught, but she was really needing to tell me something. "What is it?" I asked.

"Well, I'm just confused because Brendon just texted me asking me about Nikko," she blurted out.

"About Nikko?" I repeated. "What would he want to know about him? I mean, did he ask something specific?"

"Yeah, he asked about what he was like and how he treated you," she answered. "I didn't get to spend a whole lot of time with you because you were with him all the time. That's what I told him."

"What else did you say?"

She shrugged, "I told him he was a sports jock. That I felt like Nikko treated you more like a trophy on his arm than an important girl in his life. That he took up most of your time."

"That's a little bit blunt," I cringed, scrubbing my face with the wet rag. "Think you could've come up with some more mean things to say?"

"Maybe." My phone chimed from the bedroom.

"Could you grab that for me?" I asked. "It's probably my mom, trying to get me to come back home again." She zipped out of the room and back in, announcing that it was actually a text from Rudy. "What's he doing texting me and not you, lover girl?" I laughed, drying my hands.

She snorted, and handed me my phone.

_ Rudy: Hey. B texted me asking about nik. When did u tell him? _

"Wow, he asked Rudy too," I filled her in. "Why is he so interested in this?"

"What did you tell him about the two of you?" She sat on the toilet lid. I typed a reply to Rudy before answering.

_Me: What did u say?_

"I told him what I knew," I shrugged. "I said we were pretty much attached at the hip and that we were in the accident together. That's all I really know."

I tried to think of something else I might have said to make Brendon become more curious about him, but I couldn't think of anything. I didn't focus on Nikko in my story because I didn't remember him.

"Do you think he's, like, self-conscious about Nikko?" Marisol asked. I glared confusedly at her. "Like, I don't know. Does he feel like he's going to have to be better than Nikko was?"

"He literally just has to keep my brain intact and he will automatically be an improvement," I pointed out. "I'm sure he's just curious. I'm not upset; I'm just wondering what he's so interested in."  
My phone buzzed on the floor. I dried my hands an picked it up.

_Rudy: I told him how u and nik were close and loved each other. He treated u like a queen and all that._

"You and Rudy have very different opinions about Nikko," I rubbed my temples. I didn't know what to think about it. Why would Marisol dislike Nikko so much if he "treated me like a queen"? And why would Rudy see us as being so in love if he "treated me like a trophy"?

I didn't want to talk about it anymore with them, and I think Marisol could sense that. She left me alone in the tub. Though the room was quiet, my head was loud. It spun and spun, trying to imagine being in love with a boy I no longer knew. I wasn't even sure what love felt like. Was a lightbulb supposed to go off above my head? Would I know it when I felt it, or would I be stuck never knowing how much I really felt for a person? I pushed the thoughts out as I immersed myself back into the water.

\-------

When Brendon was helping out with Ryan and the other boys in the band, they heard him sing and were amazed. It was no surprise to me when they asked him to be the lead singer of their band. Of course they would love his voice. He was so honored, but I felt like his enthusiasm was lacking. Perhaps, at the time, it didn't seem like it would go anywhere. Maybe he didn't think it would go beyond anything local.

Maybe that's why he became catatonic when Ryan called him one day. We had been talking in his room, having fun when he received a call from Ryan. Brendon answered enthusiastically, but as he listened to Ryan, his face froze in what I saw as surprise and fear. I shook him slightly, but he only blinked.

"That's great news," he said monotone after a few moments. "I'll come over in a few hours." He quietly hung up the phone and stood up from the bed, slowly pacing about his room.

I couldn't take it any longer. "What's wrong with you?" I demanded.

"That was Ryan," he began. "He said... Jesus. Is this real?" He stared at me. "This moment, right now. Is this a dream?" I stood up and grasped his shoulders lightly. 

"It's not a dream," I laughed softly. "What did Ryan say?"

"He's been trying to get our sound out to record labels, but no one was calling back," he took a breath. "He just got an email from Pete Wentz."

I jumped, I couldn't help it. "Pete Wentz?!" I gasped. "Like Fall Out Boy Pete Wentz? Like THE Pete Wentz?" He nodded, his smile growing a little bit. "What did he say?"

"He wants to hear us on our own," he answered. "Like a live show type deal."

"Oh my gosh," I cupped my hands over my mouth.

"He's going to fly out here next month," he continued. I made more excited sounds. "Babe, this is happening."

"I know!" I squealed, throwing my arms around him. He returned the hug and began rotating, spinning us. He kept laughing and saying how he couldn't believe it before he finally let go of the embrace.

"Ryan is calling for an emergency band meeting tonight," he chuckled. "Do you want to come with me again?"

\-------

"Hey, Lisa," Spencer greeted me. Brendon's hand slid from my back as he continued into the house to talk to the rest of the guys. He gave a heavy pat to Spencer's shoulder and disappeared into the living room.

Spencer was a friendly boy and he always welcomed me with a hug. It was something I appreciated about him right off the bat. When I first met him, he hid behind his long blonde hair with his hands in his pockets. But I presented myself as a nice person, which was usually how I made friends, and he warmed up to me very quickly.

"How are you doing?" He asked, pulling me in to a pleasant cage with his strong forearms. When I first saw him, I didn't realize he was a drummer until I shook his hand. It was incredibly firm, but not forcibly rough. I assumed he knew he was strong, and he made a point to soften certain actions as he did them.

"I'm great, Spence," I smiled, returning his welcoming embrace. "I heard about the e-mail! Are you excited?"

"Oh, yes!" he answered. "Very very excited...and nervous." I could hear the anxiety in his voice, but his face was still soft and bright. I hadn't hung out with Spencer that many times, but when we had time to spare, we would always have long, deep conversations. We learned a lot about each other in just one sitting. He was so easy to talk to, and we gave each other the "you can trust me" vibe. It took no effort to become friends.

We bantered back and forth a few moments before another figure emerged from the living room.

"Close the door, man," Ryan demanded, "You'll let the warm air out!" I heard the door click behind me as Ryan smiled, walking towards me. "Lisa," he addressed me politely. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty good," I answered. Ryan never engaged in physical contact with me except for when I held my hand out to shake it. He sort of looked questioningly at it before accepting it. When I first saw him, I knew he'd be an eccentric kid. I suppose I couldn't call him a kid. He was in college. His brown hair was styled upwards and his very thin figure held fashion I hadn't seen put together before. He didn't seem as comfortable with me, but he never treated me as some off-putting stranger. "How are you?" I asked him. "Heard some pretty great news."

"Yeah, we're all kind of going crazy about it," he chuckled. "I think I'm still a little in shock, you know?" He lead Spencer and me into the living room where Brendon was sitting on the brown sofa, talking to Brent. Brent noticed our entrance and gave me a small wave. I didn't know Brent that well. He and Spencer went to the same school as me, and I hadn't known him that well either before Brendon. I probably never would have.

We all sat down and Ryan started talking to everyone about their performance. "It'll have to be one hundred percent," he warned. "If he wants to see what we have to offer before he signs us, then we have to be better than we have been. We only have three weeks to practice as hard as we can." Ryan pulled papers out of his pockets and set them on the table, unfolded. "We can build off of the lyrics we've been working with to actually complete a song. We already have a bass line for this one," he pointed out a yellow paper, "It just needs to be cleaned up and then we add to it."

Brent suddenly got extremely offended. He made a bitter comment about how he always played with everything he had, and the room was abruptly very uncomfortable. "He wasn't trying to insult you, dude," Brendon told him. "We all need to tune up for this. This is really important." They moved on, but it was an intimidating environment for me to sit in.

They continued going over lyrics and what songs they would choose while I just sat back and listened. I felt like I didn't actually belong there, even though everyone seemed to not mind me, so I was always as quiet as possible. I didn't want to do anything to interfere with their progress.

Sometimes they would use me as their guinea pig audience, and ask me what certain things sounded like. I was happy to listen and help out, though fights would erupt between them over certain things, which I felt the need to stay as far out of as possible. I hoped they could get it together in time for their small show.


	13. This Is It

"Lisa, I don't know what to do." Brendon sat crossed legged on the floor with me. His voice was soft and velvety, but it wasn't trying to pull me in like usual. "I don't want to leave you, but if this is going to be a real thing, I won't be able to stay here." I couldn't think of anything to say for a long time, so we sat in silence. "Please say something," he quietly pleaded.

"What do you want me say?" I sighed. "Do you want me to tell you to follow your dreams, or do you want me to tell you to _abandon_ them for me?"

"Lis," he rubbed his eyes on his palms, "My dreams won't be complete unless you're a part of them." His shoulders fell so low. "Maybe it's not the right time to go through with this."

"Brendon, what are you even _saying_?" I asked rhetorically, "This might be the _only_ time! You can't waste it." My eyes fell to the floor. "For me." How could I selfishly ask him to not go through with the band? I couldn't. He had to go. I didn't want to be the thing that held him back.

We were both completely quiet for minutes before he finally spoke. "Come with me." My eyes flashed up to his. "Lisa, you could come with me," his hands grasped my shoulders. "We wouldn't have to be apart that way, and I could finally take you to Vegas, and you could start writing again, and it could be a win-win."

My heart shriveled up as I couldn't stop the next words from leaving my mouth. "A win-win for _you_ ," I whispered.

"What?" he froze.

" _You're_ ready to get out of here, and do all those things you've dreamed of, but I'm _not_ ," I told him, my back feeling like it was about to crack. "My memory only goes back about two years before I met you." His hands slid down my arms, but it wasn't like how he did when he was soothing me. His fingers loosened and his hands fell like they had just given up. "I need more time than that to be ready to go. I'm still in my mind, and don't get me wrong, babe. I want to go with you and I want to know what's out there, but I need a little more time to figure it out."

"What do you need to figure out?" he demanded.

I shook my head lightly, staring at the floor. " _Myself_ ," I sighed.

"So this is it then?" he frowned deeper. I looked at him confused, "I mean, is there any reason to drag this out if it's just going to come to an end?" I sat there, jaw-dropped. "Why go through the trouble of acting like this is all going to be okay for the next three months? I'll leave and it'll be over." I was more speechless than I'd ever been before in my life. I had nothing to say to that.

"Is that what you want?" I whimpered.

"It seems practical," he answered promptly. He'd suddenly become stone. There was no emotion from him as he spoke. My heart became heavy and began wishing this was a dream and that someone would come in and wake me up. I felt my eyes stinging.

 _Fine_ , I thought to myself angrily, _he wants to play this sick game, I can do better._

I forced the wells on my face to dry up and I promptly pushed myself up from the ground, storming out of the room. I heard him follow me as I stepped down to the first floor. I opened the front door and stopped to look back at him, feeling my face dead. He stood at the second floor, staring at me with his hands gripping the railing. He looked like he was about to say something, but I didn't want to let him speak.

" _Have fun with your dreams without me in them_ ," I shot at him. And I left.


	14. Goodbye

Three months felt more like three _years_.

I moved back in with my mom. It was too stressful living across the street from Brendon. She allowed me back in, but not without a few comments, the best of which being: "Just know: the next time you want to just walk out of this house like that, you won't be allowed back in."

She was no longer my mom. We did nothing to celebrate my birthday, and I wouldn't have wanted to anyways. How would I have been in the mood for any sort of celebration? The days seemed slow at first, but they all just phased together.

Every day I would wake up, and I would tell myself to not cry for him. Every night I would lay down, and I would cry for him. We never looked at one another unless it was by chance. We sat as far from each other as possible in the classes we had in common.  
Marisol and Rudy both tried talking to me about him. They didn't understand why we broke up, and I couldn't explain it to them. I simply said, "It was practical." They eventually left me alone about it, but expressed that it still didn't make sense to them. It didn't have to make sense to them. It was what happened, and it was over. It couldn't be fixed. At the time, I hadn't realized how emotionless I became. Telling the story now, I can see all the people I had ignored when I was just trying to ignore Brendon's existence.

I fell apart only one time.

"Lisa," Spencer finally caught me at my locker.

I spun around. "Hey, Spence," my voice was monotone.

"How are you?" he asked. "I feel like we never talk anymore."

"I don't know," I answered promptly. I had been avoiding Spencer in particular. He was too sweet, and he welcomed me too openly, I knew I would give in to him.

"Do you think we could talk at some point?" he asked. "I just... I miss you a lot, and I don't want to leave without giving you a proper goodbye." I felt my heart begin to tear. I swallowed the lump of sobs down my throat, but it kept coming back up. My breath became shallow. That was what I was trying to avoid when I stayed away from Spencer, but there was no going back at that point.

"Do you mind missing class?" I asked him urgently.

"Are you kidding?" he smiled. "Anything for you. Besides, I'm not going to have to worry about it in two weeks." Two weeks. Suddenly three months seemed like it had been three days. I slammed my locker shut and lead Spencer out to the parking lot. I didn't want anyone to see what was about to happen. He didn't ask me where we were going when I turned on the ignition. He seemed to understand what was going on inside of me.

I thought quickly of a place to go, and decided the nearby park would be best. Everyone would be in class, which meant no one would be there. I sped through the lot and around a couple corners to the bright green park. The truck stopped abruptly in a spot, and I got out quickly. I suddenly felt like I needed more air. I heard the passenger door open and slam behind me, and Spencer's feet rush towards me.

"Lisa!" he grabbed my shoulders, and made me look at him. His forehead held the concerned creases.

"I'm not going to fall," I gasped, feeling the sobs escape. "I just need to breathe." He pulled me into his chest, his strong arms holding me tight. I let out the cries I'd been holding in since I'd last spoken to Brendon. They were louder than I thought they'd be. I never thought that sound would come out of me.

"Take your time," Spencer told me calmly. "Just breathe. Let yourself breathe." He guided me to a bench and sat me down, letting me pull him down with me. He kept an arm around me, giving me the time I needed to let out everything I'd kept inside.  
I knew when I met Spencer that he would be this kind of friend. I could never just break down and cry about a boy in front of Marisol or Rudy. Marisol would tell me to suck it up and find a new boy, and Rudy wouldn't really even know what to say.

"Brendon told me about what had happened," he murmured once my sobbing had quieted. "He kept saying it was the right thing and it made the most sense."

"Practical," I whimpered.

"Yeah," he agreed, grimacing. "Pretty shitty word to use, if you ask me."

"I thought so too," I sniffled, releasing him to wipe any black makeup from my cheeks. "I almost wish I had agreed to come along."

"What do you mean?" He questioned.

"He asked me to come with him when you guys left," I answered. Spencer looked puzzled. "Did he not tell you that part?"

"No," he shook his head. "His story was that he had decided it was best if you two broke it off now because he didn't even know if you would last as a couple." Our conversation hadn't been about anything like that. Why would he say that?

"He asked me to come with him," I whispered, my eyes burning again. "I was so close to saying yes." I closed my eyes.

"What stopped you?"

"Fright."

"What are you afraid of?" Spencer asked hesitantly.

"Everything." My eyes opened again. "I've lived for nineteen years, but I remember only three years of it. There's so much I think I knew back then that I don't know now." I sighed, feeling like my words weren't making sense. "I guess I'm just traumatized."

"It's not like it's unreasonable for you to be that way," Spencer pointed out. "It makes sense."

"I just... I was ready to put that all behind me for a split second," I blurted out. "I was going to deny my fears to go anywhere with him because-" I paused. Spencer's eyes beckoned me to continue. "Because I realized I'd fallen in love with him."

Spencer's brow raised and his mouth opened to speak, but no sound escaped. I found myself speechless as well. I'd never said it out loud before that moment. I most likely would have said it to Brendon if our conversation hadn't taken such an abrupt turn.  
We sat quietly for a minute before Spencer finally asked, "Did you tell him?"

"He became someone else entirely before I got the chance to," I muttered, remembering his stone façade.

"I don't know for sure what he was thinking, but I'm starting to wonder if he's regretting it now," Spencer hinted.

"Why?"

"He's been staring at you," he shoved his hands in his pockets, "a lot."

"You sure you don't mean 'glaring'?" I asked bitterly.

"I'm sure," he smiled at my comment. "I mean, come on, Lis. You think that after how much time you'd spent together that he didn't grow similar feelings for you?"

"I figured if he had, he would have told me," I shrugged, trying to make myself not care.

"Maybe he wasn't ready to yet," he mimicked my shrug. "Just like you weren't ready to."

"You're actually trying to make his attitude make sense," I crossed my arms.

"No, the way he went through with it was an asshole way," he shook his head. "I'm just trying to help you understand where he might be coming from."

I thought about everything Spencer had told me for days. I didn't know what kind of thought to have about Brendon anymore.

What could we possibly say to each other after the previous three months?

\-------

The school was empty. That's how I knew it wasn't real. All the classroom doors were shut and locked except for one. I found Mr. Kemp's door wide open, and when I cautiously entered, I found the one person I had been trying to avoid. He heard my feet shuffle as I couldn't decided whether to fight or flee.

"Come here, Elisa," Brendon said. His voice wasn't velvety or inviting. Instead it was hoarse and emotional.

"Why should I?" I gulped. "It's not real anyways."

"Then what do you have to lose?" He was turned away from me. As I walked closer to him, I noticed he was sitting in the spot where we had first met, and I took the chair that was originally my seat.

"How about my sanity?" I answered his question as I sat. His face wasn't normal. It was Brendon, but it was warped with dark under-eyes and stress lines.

"You know I'm leaving soon," his brown eyes looked up at me. They looked tired and distraught. "I know it's been a while since we talked, but..." He stopped talking and stared down at the table again.

"But what?" I encouraged him. Even though I knew this was all in my head, I wanted to hear him speak. I had missed him more than I let myself realize.

"I just don't want to leave without telling you..." We stayed silent for a while. He seemed like he didn't actually want to tell me anything. "Do you remember when we first met?" He looked around the room. "I noticed you right in front of me immediately," he chuckled as if I was supposed to believe him. "I wanted to talk to you, introduce myself, but I was nervous."

"It was a good thing you didn't have to do anything then," I muttered.

"Yes, it was," his eyes seemed to brighten at my words, but darken as he noticed my tone. "I am thankful about how much you cared for me, Lisa. You meant the world to me."

"The fact that your key words are past tense isn't helping your cause," I crossed my arms.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked.

"Nothing," I spat. He seemed to only be amused at my attitude. I immediately got up and started to walk away, and I heard him shuffle around, but he didn't catch up to me. I didn't know where I was going, but I eventually ended up at the front door of the school. As I got closer to it, I noticed Brendon was already outside through the glass pane.

"This is it, Lisa," he warned, pulling a bag onto his shoulders. "If you don't chase me now, I'm gone."

"You expect me to chase you and beg you to stay after what you said to me?" I demanded angrily. He didn't respond. "What would I even say to you?"

"At this point, anything would be the final straw that forces me to stay," he said. "Just stall me." He turned to me and strode confidently towards me, extending his arm out. I felt his fingers graze my cheek.

I woke up, lurching out of my bed. My knees hit the floor and my head hit the nightstand. I cried out in pain as I rolled onto the floor.

"Damn it!" I applied pressure on my forehead, begging the pain to stop. After a few minutes it hurt less enough for me to reach up and grab my phone.

Saturday. 12:37 p.m.

How did I sleep in so late? I rolled onto my front and closed my eyes. I let my mind wander before I had a realization.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed. "They're leaving today!"

Spencer told me when they would be leaving a few days before that, and gave me his unhappy goodbye. I didn't know if I would make it to the airport in time before they boarded their flight, but I just had to try.

I didn't bother changing out of my pajamas. I didn't have time. As I sped to the airport, I pulled out my phone to call Brendon. I let it ring three times before I hung up. If I wasn't going to get there in time, I didn't want him to wait for me. He needed to go if I wouldn't convince him to stay, but I wasn't going to make him miss his chance. "What am I doing?" I asked myself. But I continued driving. The airport was packed. I couldn't see anyone familiar. After spinning in circles for a few moments, I rushed to a desk with a woman in small glasses staring into a computer.

"Hi, can I help you?" she smiled politely.

"Uh, yes, can you tell me where the flight for New York is boarding?" I asked, my heart beating rapidly.

"Oh, it's at gate 13, but it's boarding right now," she told me, "If that's your flight, you may have to reschedule."

"Thank you," I replied quickly as I began running. I'd only been to the airport once, and that was just to pick someone up. I had a basic knowledge of how the gates were ordered, but I couldn't remember completely how the layout was.

I ran for only minutes before I finally saw the big number "13" on the wall across the crowd. I shoved my way through all the people, just trying to get there before he got on the plane.

 _He'll already be on the plane_ , I thought to myself. _It's no use._ I found the final wall of people, and pushed through, apologizing to a man I'd almost knocked over. Once I was through the mass of grumpy passengers, I froze. It was the first time I'd seen Brendon's face in real life in about six weeks. My heart lost itself and I couldn't breathe.

" _Say something_ ," I gasped. He was handing his ticket to a woman behind a podium, and she handed it back to him and smiled. He was the last one getting on the plane. He stepped through, and began rounding a corner. " _ **Brendon**_!" I finally found my voice. He stopped walking and started to turn, but before he faced me again, I was bumped into and knocked onto the floor. I groaned with the wind knocked out of me. The person who pushed me down didn't take notice of me, and kept walking. Someone else came to my aid.

"Brendon?" I gasped as I felt someone kneel down next to me.

"Miss?" a unfamiliar voice asked. "Miss can you hear me?" My heart dropped, as I heard the door Brendon went through close. I couldn't stop the tears. I blinked them away to see who was above me. "Ma'am, are you okay? Some jerk ran into you." I sniffled, trying to recapture my voice yet again. The light-haired man helped me sit up as I wiped the moisture from my face.

"Thank you," I whimpered hoarsely.

"Did you miss your flight?" I looked up at the man and found his blue eyes twinkling underneath the worry creases of his brow.  
I shook my head, staring down, "I was here for someone else." The stranger helped me to my feet. "I just missed him," I held back those loud sobs.

"Hm," he didn't know what to say. I didn't expect him to comfort me. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes," I answered, wiping my eyes. "Thank you," I forced a small smile towards him. "Have a safe flight." I didn't run again, but I wanted to get out of the airport very quickly. I kept my head down for most of my walk of shame. I was embarrassed and completely shattered.

I missed my chance. I hesitated. Why didn't I call out to him sooner? Why didn't I just swallow my pride sooner and tell him everything? I should have told him that I loved him.

He's never going to know now, I thought to myself. I quickly escaped the crowded airport and sped home.  
My phone vibrated as I reached my house. Marisol's name appeared in the ID. I couldn't talk to her. I couldn't talk to anyone. I needed time before I could possibly come face to face with someone else.

I wrapped myself up in my blankets and cried. It seemed like I cried for hours. I don't know how long it was until I'd finally fallen asleep.


	15. The Trio, Divided

"Have you been looking at colleges?" Marisol asked before talking a bite of her pizza.

"No," I answered. "I don't think I even want to go to college."

"What are you going to do then? Sulk like you have been?" She shot at me. I knew she still had some bum feelings. After the airport, it took me two months to get well enough to talk to anyone again. It was the hardest two months of my life, and Marisol didn't understand.

"Maybe," I shrugged, "It's not like it takes a lot of effort."

"You're real funny, Lis," Marisol smiled bitterly. "Anyways, I thought you wanted to write. What happened to that?"

"Nothing to write about," I ripped my pizza slice into bite size pieces.

"There's plenty to write about," she demanded.

"I mean, it's not like I'm just not trying," I told her. "I'm just at a dead end in my life. Nothing is happening."

"You're such a downer," she scoffed.

"You try making something interesting out of a story about a girl who goes to work and then goes to live at home with mom," I snapped. "Like I said, it's a dead end."

"Try turning around."

"..What?"

"Come on, Lisa, you know what I'm saying," she grabbed another slice. "You can't move forward, go back. Your past."

My skin began to heat up. "I can't." Marisol gave me a look. "I won't!" I clarified.

"You say there's nothing to write about in your present, yet a lot has happened in the past to get you to this point," she sang in her "I'm right" voice. "You can either write about the things that happened back then, or you can shut the hell up and stop sulking about it."

"When did you get so damn mean?" I grumbled. _Maybe she's right though_ , I thought to myself. Marisol was still too bitter to continue talking to. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. We decided to part for the rest of the day. The drive back home was quick and blank. I'd learned how to make myself not think too much. It wasn't easy, but it eventually became a second nature. Living with my mom was about the same as it was before, except she sort of stayed off my case a little more. Perhaps she actually listened to me.

Just as I slipped into bed, my phone vibrated. I debated on just letting it sit and not bother looking at it, but my curiosity got the better of me. Rudy's name shined on the screen. He'd been less bitter about me. He was used to me and my phases. When he was basically teaching me how to be a person again, I fell in and out of confidence and all that. It was difficult for me to get on my feet, and Rudy was always patient with me. He knew how delicate I could be, and always knew how much to push me. I wondered if he wanted to just check up on me.

_Rudy: Hey u doing alright?_

_Me: Im fine. Ur girlfriend keeps hassling me about my future tho_

I rolled over, thinking about what Marisol had said. "Turn around." Seemed pretty stupid to me. The past hurt too much for me to write about it. I thought about it too much, and that's what messed me up. No. I couldn't look back. The only thing that made me feel like I needed to look back was the feeling of no closure. I thought about it a lot.

 _I just wish I could tell Br- him everything I wanted to_ , I stuttered in my head. My phone buzzed again, but I was too tired to bother. I pulled my blankets close and let myself fade away.

\-------

"Do you want me to pick up some food on the way over?" Rudy's voice hummed from my phone.

"If you want. I'm up for whatever, and you know what I like," I told him.

"Indeed," he replied. "I'll be over in about twenty."

We hung up, and I instantly began moving. The last few months were not spent cleaning. I tried planning out how to get my room clean, but it was such a mess. It wouldn't get cleared in time. I just decided to keep Rudy in the living room. It was a lot less depressing out there. I jumped into the shower. My sense of hygiene had definitely been lacking, and I didn't want Rudy to know about it.

I suddenly realized how much I wanted Rudy to think I was okay. I wanted him to look at me and say: "Yep, you're doing perfect." My heart demanded it. Thinking back, I guess I understood why it was a need for me. As Rudy gave me my personality, he often let me know when he thought I was doing well. It became one of my favorite things to hear. The more I opened up, the more he encouraged me. I fed off it.

It was strange to me at first. Why was that such a good feeling to me? But as I analyzed my life more and more, I came to a conclusion. I didn't know my father. I didn't know him at all before the accident either, apparently. I made the assumption that I clung to Rudy for approval because I didn't have that from anywhere else. I remember bringing that up to him one time, and he agreed to the thought. He told me that's why I got so close to Nikko. Nikko, for some reason, became protective of me, and I grasped on tightly to that. It was like I depended on a male figure in my life for direction.

I pulled on some sweatpants and a band tee when I dried myself off. I twisted my wet hair into a bun, and sat on the couch, waiting for Rudy. He didn't take very long to get there. As I opened the door, he lifted two greasy fast food bags in front of his face. "I thought something fried and unhealthy would be a good choice," he explained.

"Aw, grease?" I took a bag from him. "It's just what I wanted. Rudy, you shouldn't have." He laughed as he followed me to the living room.

"Where's your mom at?" he asked, emptying out his bag of food onto the coffee table.

"Conference in Butthole-Nowhere," I mumbled, shoving a hot fry into my mouth.

"Butthole-Nowhere, huh?" Rudy commented, "I hear it's nice there this time of year." I snorted as I opened a small box of chicken tenders, and eagerly dug into them. "So," he hesitated, "Did you get my message the other night?"

"I fell asleep, so I didn't read it until the next day, but I figured you'd tell me what was up now," I shrugged. "So," I took another bite of chicken, "S'up?"

"Well, before I tell you, I want you to ready yourself to not get angry," he warned. "It's not as big of a deal as you're going to make it out to be, so I want you to get that in your head now." I swallowed my food and dusted my hands off before clasping them together. "Ready?" I nodded. "Brendon called me," he stated firmly. I almost wanted to scream. I hadn't heard or said his name in practically three months, and it was a complete shock for the sound to be so abruptly shoved into my ears.

Was I shaking?

"Don't freak out," Rudy grasped my shoulders, "Don't freak out. Breathe." I let out a gust of air. "He left some things at my house from when we jammed, and he asked me to send them to him." I imagined him scrolling through the contacts in his phone and erasing my name before he called Rudy. The thought made me have many different emotions. I couldn't choose which one to be, so I decide to bury all of them and be nothing.

"Why are you telling me this?" I choked out. Rudy sighed, "Because I thought you might want to...send him something." I looked up at him confusedly. "I know you, Lisa. You're a writer. You keep everything locked up inside you until you write it down." I swallowed and felt my arms wrap around my torso. "I'm willing to bet you two didn't break up on good terms, and that there are a million things you wish you could have told him." He was right. I had to share so many things with Brendon that I just never found the proper moment to. I wanted to tell him about my dreams of him, and how I had to talk myself up so much just to speak to him and how I missed wearing the earrings he gave me, and how much I loved him... "I'm sending a box out tomorrow," Rudy pulled me out of my head. "I know it's not a lot of time, but that's your opportunity, and I'd hate to see you waste it."

\-------

"I'm not doing it," I argued. "I can't. I won't." My bedroom was empty, yet I was fighting out loud to myself, tripping over miscellaneous items as I paced.

"He'd never read it once he knew who it was from," I pointed out. "Once he opens it and see's my handwriting, he'll toss it. What a waste."

"He wouldn't take the time to write out anything like this for me," I huffed angrily. I stopped pacing and stood still. I looked around my room, seeing all the clutter and piles of clothes and papers. "I'm being a baby."

"I am a huge freaking baby," I groaned. _What would be the harm in just writing it out without the intent of sending it? Maybe it would be good to write it out._ _Maybe I can just put all the thoughts and memories on paper, so I don't have to keep thinking about them so much._

I could tell my heart was coaxing me into just writing the damn thing. I knew what it was doing, but I let it continue anyways. It didn't take that much persuasion.

"Oh, whatever," I sighed, sitting at my desk. I grabbed a pen and a paper from the side drawers, taking the time to place them neatly in front of me. I didn't know how to even start. _Just write to him like you're writing to a friend you haven't seen in a while_ , I thought to myself.

"Maybe, just one time, you should talk to me like there won't be any consequences."

I turned back around in my chair. _Friend, huh? No consequences._

_It could be like you're writing a story._

_Well I can do that._

"Alright," I sighed. I placed the pen gently against the ivory paper, and began.

That was the last night I spent in that house. My bedroom was easy enough to pack up. It was actually a relief. I threw away everything I knew only sentimental value, and were going to be of no use to me. I kept my clothes, my truck, my books... My mom was at work, so I wrote her a note, and let it on her bed. She would prbably be extremely upset with me, but I had to leave. The environment she created in that house was unhealthy anyways. I couldn't live like that any longer.

I said goodbye to Marisol and Rudy that night as well. It was late, and it was a harsh and bitter conversation. Rudy just stared, shocked. But Marisol... She exploded in my face, telling me to move on and get over it. It was really silly she felt the need to scream those things at me because that's what I was doing. I was moving on. I was getting over it. And not just my broken heart; I was getting over my fears and becoming an adult. At least, that's what I figured I was doing. The bed of my truck was full. A large piece of blue tarp was tied sercurely over it. I was ready to go.

Marisol stormed away, leaving Rudy to try and convince me to stay. Maybe he wasn't trying to convince me, however. Maybe he just wanted to double check with me. Make sure I was in the proper state of mind to be making this decision, which I appreciated. Once he realized I was serious, he grabbed me tight and held me for a long time. He was the only reason I cried that night.

"I want you to call me if this doesn't work out, or if something goes wrong," he urged, holding my face to look directly at him. "I'll let you leave, but I'm not ready to lose you." He was trying to be light hearted, but our tears were making the situation even more painful. He laughed softly, his hands falling to my shoulders, "Feels like just last week I found you sitting by yourself in the hallway at shcool. Confused. Crying."

"You've done so much for me, Rudy," I whimpered. "Leaving almost feels like a betrayal. I would never be able to repay you for what you've done anyways."

"You can," he stopped me. "Just be safe, and stay in contact with me. I'm going to be worried sick until I know you're in a good spot in your life." He sighed and pulled me in again, tighter. He didn't want to let me go, but he did. He gave me a soft kiss on my forehead after I gave him one on the cheek, and told me he loved me. I cried all the way out of town.

The road became my new friend, directing me to new places to see. I was nervous leaving town by myself, but as I found new locations to stay and new people to befriend, I realized I had never felt more free. I understand now, my fears were all so trivial, and they were simply a veil - an excuse to be left behind in comfort.

Now. It's all gone. I can't hide anymore. I am free of myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter of Elisa Moné's life is complete, but her story is far from over. A life of constant motion, new daily experiences, and casual intimate encounters was not what the young girl had planned. She abandoned all the fears her teenage mind held onto, and allowed her reckless feet to take her anywhere they pleased. Had she not left exactly when she did, her mind would've talked itself out of going. She doesn't know what's going to happen, or where she will eventually end up, but she does know one thing: She's never felt more alive.
> 
> Lisa's story continues six years later in These Coming Years. Did she bother sending a letter? And what did she even write? Will she have changed? And will that change be for better, or worse?


End file.
